The Poison Garden
by jupiterbluee
Summary: Hermione Granger grows up thinking she's a regular girl, until one day a school project turns everything in her life upside down, a woman she's never met shows up with a letter, and she's told she made of... magic? That's just the beginning...
1. Chapter 1

The Poison Garden

It was dark. All that lead her was the light of the moon. She was running, barefoot through the heather. Rocks, dirt, and grass poked the bottom of her feet painfully — but she had to continue on. Her swollen belly ached with every gallop she took; her back ready to give out.

In a short distance away she could see glowing lights through tall windows of a… castle? For some reason, it felt familiar, but she knew she'd never been here before. Her bleary eyes couldn't make the building out and it was just too far away for her to make.

She fell to her knees, scraping them on bits of gravel. She whimpered, wanting to rest, but she couldn't stop here. Pushing down on her palms, she made it back to her feet and continued.

A large greenhouse stood about a hundred yards away from the castle-like structure. She could feel herself slowing down, her stomach painfully contracted; the baby was coming. Arriving at the door of the structure and grabbing the handle, she found it to be locked — with the depletion of her physical strength, she could not bring forth any magic. Not that she was trained in much wandless magic aside from cleaning charms, anyway. She didn't own a wand, never had. She knew she could not punch through the glass to unlock it. Tears were streaming down her face; she wanted to give up. This was not how she was supposed to be giving birth; not here, now, in the middle of nowhere. Not being chased by them — the ones in black robes and silver masks; the ones that were known in their secret society as Death Eaters.

The weight of a large ball overwhelmed her thighs. She let out a squeal and mouthed a "help," even though no one was around. Kneeling, the woman took a few deep breaths and blinked away the tears from her eyes. She couldn't give up now. She couldn't let this happen to her baby.

The castle was still a fair distance away. Perhaps there was another door — with luck it'd be unlocked. As she crawled around the greenhouse, she found a tall wrought iron fence, with the opening gate left ajar. Her heart thumped rapidly with relief. Pulling herself up, she held onto the wall and walked slowly toward the entrance. Her breathing was raspy and sweat poured down her body.

Pushing through the gate, never taking notice to the sign planted into the ground: Caution, Poison Garden — Enter at Own Risk! Tripping over the ivy that laced the entrance, she fell into a shrub of Oleander; inhaling the sweet nectar, she instantly began to feel nauseated and weaker. Realizing her mistake, she pushed herself just enough away from the plant, but fell onto another beneath it and rolled onto her back with the best of her ability. She cried out from the stingers that punctured her skin, "P-please, he-help me!" Her heart raced, she could barely lift her head.

Standing at the bottom of the hill from the castle, a tall woman with square spectacles was speaking with a young man, whose graduation from Hogwarts she had just presided over. "Sirius, there just aren't any jo—" she stopped speaking mid-sentence and looked to the man, "did you, did you hear that?"

They both turned to the cries and began rushing toward it with their wands at the ready. The pair arrived at The Poison Garden within moments.

Minerva, the one with the square spectacles, pushed open the gate cautiously, giving Sirius an unnerving glance. They stepped over the vines that crawled across the threshold; stopping dead in their tracks. They stared down at a young woman of maybe twenty. She was lying on the leaves of a very poisonous plant, with a baby on the ground between her legs in a pool of blood — crying out for its mother.

"Sirius!" Minerva commanded, as she charmed gloves onto their hands, "tend to the woman. Careful not to touch the Oleander. Oh… there, there..." She gathered the child, who was just inches from the stinging leaves. Taking her wand, she cut the cord that linked it to the woman, conjuring a bit of twine to tie around the end.

Sirius removed the young woman from the plant and placed her on the dirt. He and Minerva kneeled beside her, Sirius lifting her head so she could speak. Her hair was dark in color, frizzy and all over the place and by the light of the moon, her eyes were a light brown. And her lips were losing their natural shade of red to white.

"P-Parker?" She asked, lifting her weak hand to Sirius' face. He looked over to Minerva and she nodded in silent agreement. This young woman was not going to make it — and she needed any comfort that she could be granted.

"Yes, love?" Sirius answered at just above a whisper. He felt an overwhelming sadness begin to take him over. This poor woman. He gulped, That poor baby. He held her head in the crook of his arm, pushing her hair away from her sweaty face.

"M-make sure the b-baby," she swallowed hard, her breath weakening with each she took. She traced her thumb over Sirius' cheek, "Don't let it go back there. Don't let it go back there, okay?"

Sirius nodded, wishing he knew where this woman was talking about. He could sense the pain and suffering from her. "Please… find it a home with M-muggles. Away from this world… don't, don't let it get caught up in the ways of hor-horrible, d-dark magic, Park. The Death… " She swallowed again. She was unable to finish the sentence. She had been charmed into not telling of the society she escaped from. "If things get better with time, then allow her the gift of m-magic."

Sirius looked back to Minerva with pleading in his eyes. "Okay." He whispered back to the dying woman, then to the other, "should I ask her name?"

Minerva shook her head, "she thinks of you as her Parker."

"What's your name, Dear?" Minerva asked, "what should I tell your little girl when she's older?"

"Oh… it's a girl?" She attempted a smile, another hard swallow, with a deep breath that followed. "Tell her Morganna was her mo-mother's n-name."

Both Sirius and Minerva paused, looking upon her. Morganna?

Sirius noticed a change in Minerva's face when he glanced back up.

"Tell her I tried so hard… Tell her… her name is Her-Hermione." Morganna drew in a deep breath. "Park, I'm… I'm so tired…"

Sirius leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers, "It's alright, love. Rest now."

She nodded, "Keep her safe, they are coming… " Morganna touched his face once more. A warm golden glow surrounded her body. She closed her eyes for just a brief moment, and when she re-opened them, a white film covered her irises. Speaking more clearly than before and astute: "I am Morganna le Fay and here is my final resting place. I transfer all my abilities, magic, and power to my child, for when the time is ready — Hermione. Hermione le Fay shall be the Greatest Sorceress to ever walk this Earth. Protect her! Protect her until she is ready." She placed her other hand on the baby's head, a white string of light escaped her fingertips and encapsulated over Hermione's tiny body. The ground beneath the four of them shook; Plants, flowers, and vines curled away. Her dark hair suddenly turned grey and her skin began to etch with wrinkles. And with that, she shut her eyes once more, never to open them again.

There was an eerie silence. Breaths were held. It took them a minute to formulate exactly what had just been said to them.

"There is no way," Sirius stated bluntly, still staring. "There is absolutely no... freaking way."

Minerva shuddered, cradling Hermione more closely. "I— I don't… We need Headmaster Dumbledore. And— and Madame Pomfrey and for this ba—Hermione to eat…" She said frantically as she handed the baby over to Sirius.

Minerva removed her cloak and laid it upon Morganna. Sirius held Hermione close to his chest. She had fallen asleep, her little body glowed golden like her mother's did. What a life this little one would lead one day — but what could be so bad about this baby living in the magical world— her rightful place? The Greatest Sorceress to ever live had a child in the present day — Who Morganna claimed to be the NEXT Greatest Sorceress?

This little girl would be worshiped. She's a Princess — and Morganna'd had no idea of her true identity until Death met her. Which, if the woman had known… none of this would have even taken place. How did she end up here? This timeline? Why had she not known who she was? So many questions… And how would they be answered?

Before the three could leave the garden and make their way up to the castle, they turned to find Headmaster Dumbledore standing there, his hands interlocked, with his index fingers pointed toward the sky. "The events that have taken place here tonight, may never be spoken of to anyone, unless asked of by the young Hermione. Is this understood?"

"And how, pray tell," Minerva began, "will she ask, if she never knows to…" she shrugged her shoulders presumptuously, "ask?"

Sirius held the back of Hermione's head to his chest. He looked down at her, she was awake again, blinking her eyes.

"Exactly," was all that Dumbledore said.

—

A/N: Updated periodically.  
All chapters will be beta'd with time.  
Forever Beta: ravenclawmidwife  
Hope you enjoy the story. If things don't make sense, they will IN time.  
Also PLEASE remember that Hermione is older than Harry.  
Unfortunately, I do NOT have a pairing yet. Nor do I know if there will be just ONE. Hermione may have multiple relations. Not everyone has just one bf/gf through school - or even after school. Or even one at all! We shall see. I haven't gotten that far. I really SUCK at responding to reviews. But know, I see them! I love them! I thank you for taking the time out of your day to read a silly fanfic story by me; It means more than you know. Happy reading!  
Love, Blue.


	2. Chapter 2

Sirius and Minerva made it to the professor's living quarters inside the castle. Sirius still held Hermione as they entered the sitting room. Just as he sat down the woman used her wand to transfigure a pillow into a bassinet. "Let me have her," she requested, holding out her arms.

Sirius handed the baby over, then rubbed his sweaty palms down the front of his pants anxiously. "I don't think I've ever been so nervous," he said suddenly, trying to focus on the suite, the pictures on the walls, the weird carpet… anything.

Minerva nodded in agreement, "It's not everyday you come across a dying woman who claims to be a... legend, just having a baby." The woman laid little Hermione into the cradle.

A knock on the door disturbed their momentary silence. Sirius moved to answer, finding Madame Pomfrey, the castle's Mediwitch on the other side. "Good heavens!" She bellowed, prancing into the room. She was dressed in her bed attire, her arms full of baby items. "I have these things set aside in the case one of our students… you know." The woman rambled as she escorted herself over to the bassinet. She tutted smiling down at the child then began dressing Hermione warmly. She cooed at her as she wandlessly prepared a bottle of milk. "You sweet wee bairn."

Minerva began pacing, "I don't understand that man. This baby… Where is she supposed to go? Her mother's wishes were to keep her away from the magical world… Did Albus say anything to you, Poppy?"

Poppy shook her head as she sat down to feed Hermione. "No. He told me there was an emergency baby situation and to find you." The woman sighed, "I can take her with me back to the infirmary if you'd like me to. If not, I'll leave all the necessary items you'll need."

Minerva stared blankly at the floor, she stroked her forehead. "Leave her with me… her Mother asked me to… look after her until we can find her a proper… home." She then glanced over to the young man who had come to Hogwarts that evening to see if there were any job openings at the castle only to be thrown into this mess. Though there weren't any, she felt guilty for turning him away. Now this has happened. "Sirius?"

He raised his head and stood tiredly from his place on the sofa, "erm—yes, Professor McGonagall?"

"You should go home. We've got it handled here. If I need you," she watched as the man's shoulders dropped, "or not…?"

Sirius exhaled, running his fingers through his hair, "I want to help in any way that I can. I'm sorry if it seems as if I don't want to be here or not putting forth any effort at the moment." He snorted, "I'm still in a bit of a shock."

The elder woman tutted,"I understand. I am as well—will be for some time. Go on now." She patted Sirius' shoulder, "thank you for all the help you've provided…" she cleared her throat, "I know it'll be hard not to tell the story of tonight, but please remember what Headmaster said… it's best we keep it to ourselves." She peered down at Hermione.

Sirius nodded and stalked slowly to Minerva McGonagall's fireplace. He grabbed a handful of silvery powder from a purple bowl sitting atop a stand, then threw it into the hearth calling out, "Three Broomsticks!"

"The tyke has just fallen asleep." Poppy whispered. "I'll lay her down. If you need anything, send for me. I'll be back in the morning to check in on her. She seems fine now, otherwise; all her fingers and toes… warm pink skin, her eyes are working, a wee bit tired, but why wouldn't she be tired? It's a journey to come into the world, is it no?" The latter witch smiled then turned to Minerva, "As it's not written down… to my knowledge, why don't you care for Miss Hermione— oh I adore that name…"

Minerva's eyes nearly popped out of her head at this suggestion, "I don't have the time nor the energy for a baby, Poppy. I've got my students… and at my age—"

Poppy nearly laughed. "Age? Minerva, really… You've hardly touched your golden years."

McGonagall looked down at Hermione. She knew she could raise an amazing, strong, courageous witch. But she had a feeling this girl would be one all on her own… and she, herself had hundreds of children at Hogwarts to basically raise. She couldn't put all her focus on just one. "It is a grand idea… I just couldn't. It sounds tempting, it does. However, her mother had wishes."

Poppy nodded in short. "Alright." She glanced up to the clock. "It's late— I best be off to bed. I've got a wellness class to teach throughout the day tomorrow. I'll see you first thing, though. Shout if you need me."

Minerva pushed the bassinet into her own bedroom and settled it next to her bed. She dressed in her nightgown and rubbed her hands with lotion, readying for sleep. After plaiting her long hair, she sat down on the side of her bed. Tonight's events were some she'd remember for the rest of her life. It definitely made it to her top ten.

The baby made a small sound, catching Minerva's attention. She leaned over to see her still sleeping. The woman caught herself smiling. Hermione really was precious… and her mother seemed to think it as well… and to be so adamant about protecting the little one— it made Minerva curious.

Her mind began to wander, thinking of all the possibilities… but in reality she chalked it up to there not being many things in the magical world she could think of aside from typical every day news… there was good and bad everywhere — and to the witch's opinion, she thought the Muggle world was a bit more drastic in crime. She could think of plenty wizarding families that Hermione could go to, to live a happy and safe life.

Minerva placed her hand inside the bassinet and touched Hermione's chest to feel her heartbeat and to make sure she was breathing. She then took the tiny hand and caressed her thumb over her soft skin, only to have five little fingers grasp her one. Sleep took the witch before she could finish her thoughts.

….

"I've found a family." Albus Dumbledore said as he entered his colleagues living space.

"That quickly?" Minerva felt sudden worry.

"Yes. It's a young couple — Sir Hector Dagworth-Granger told me of his distant relatives in Hampstead. He's been keeping an eye on the family to see if they'd be producing an heir as he's not one of his own… and he'd like to leave his business to their child if he or she is of magic, especially since he's getting up there in age. Well, no such luck in years for the Granger Men—they've all been perfectly Muggle." He picked up one of the baby outfits Poppy had left, holding it before him, then tutted at how cute it was. "Anyway, I mentioned to him the orphaned child this morning over coffee and he was thrilled."

Dumbledore seemed to be satisfied with his news. "He will perform a ritual over his Last Will and Testament that will bind Hermione to him so when she comes of age all will be left to her if he's passed on. Otherwise, if she were to attend Hogwarts, she will have her own account at Gringotts that way all the necessary items will be taken care of— Either way, Hermione will be taken care of. Just a prick of her finger for a drop of blood will do."

Minerva on the other hand was not satisfied with any of this. "And you're sure that… that these Grangers are good people?"

If he was offended, one could never tell. Dumbledore plainly nodded. "Yes. I wouldn't place a child in a home where I'd feel they'd be… abused or neglected, Minerva... surely you think better of me."

She supposed she believed that… Dumbledore was a good-hearted man, but as of late—he'd been acting different, and she couldn't quite put her finger on what exactly it was. "I would like to meet this couple. How will she be presented? Will they be notified of Hermione's powers and the world she's from? Surely she will produce accidental magic. How will that be explained—?"

"Minerva," Albus started calmly, "you needn't worry yourself. Spend your afternoon with the baby, I will be taking Hermione to her new family tonight." The man shook his head, "I'm sorry… we must protect her. And if — that is if she comes back to our world once she turns eleven, we must try our best to hide the fact of who she came from. She would be a wanted witch. We cannot subject a child to that." As he left the room, the bottom of his robes whooshed behind him, leaving Minerva completely and utterly pissed.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione had just gotten home from school. It was a wonderful day, so wonderful! She was very happy that she only lived a block away from the school she attended. She'd grabbed her book bag and ran all the way home, bursting through the front door to look at her family pictures and once she was done with that, she'd sit her parents down, tell them what she'd learned. Then she would study them to see how her family's genetics worked with one another. She'd show her parents the report and poster board she made. She was feeling very proud of herself for the work she achieved. Hermione stood before the fireplace on her tip-toes looking up at the pictures on the mantle readying herself to show-off what she knew.

There were three photographs, each in a pretty frame. One decorated with pearls and lace was of her parents, they were dressed in their wedding attire. It was a close-up profile of their faces; her mother's, heart-shaped. Her dad's jawline, sharp and chiseled. A very handsome couple.

The next was of just herself when she was about three, wrapped in a yellow duck towel, (embarrassing!) — her big eyes stared at the camera, and her smile was cheesy and big.

Before she even began to look at the last picture, her eyes wandered back to the wedding portrait; something is off, Hermione thought to herself.

She noticed one of the pearls peeling, but that wasn't it. She pushed up on the bead but it fell and bounced. "Whoops." Picking up the pearl, she twisted it between her forefinger and thumb, staring at the picture of her parents… she squinted her eyes, I can't place my finger on it…

She suspected she got her curly brown hair from her mother, Isobel. Except that Isobel's hair was a light blonde — but so was her dad's. And they both had bright blue eyes, which was completely and totally opposite of Hermione's honey-golden eyes. Well that can't be right.

"What are you doing, Minnie-Mouse?" Hermione felt her cheeks heat up. They had been doing that lately whenever her parents have absolutely been embarrassing me— and it's all so new. Normally, Hermione didn't mind nicknames, or spending time with her mum and dad, but it seemed suffocating. She assumed it was puberty — she read about it in one of her mother's cosmopolitan magazines (that she found in a basket beneath her parent's bathroom cabinet when she'd went searching for a bandage) under an article of 'What to tell your kid and how to break it to them without embarrassing them!' Or something like that.

She turned around to face her dad, August, who was smiling upon her. He was such a handsome man and his piercing blue eyes ate away at her. It was like a super-power of his. She has tried — though it's not her favorite past time, to lie to him. Just one look from him, all her secrets come out like word vomit. She quickly pushed her wild strands of hair behind her ears, why? She hadn't a clue, as little coils of curls came sprouting right back out. "I was looking at the pictures."

"You're always looking at our pictures." August smirked with one brow raised.

Hermione blushed again, "I — I know. It's just, we're such a lovely family. I can't help but admire them—us."

The man chuckled, reaching toward his daughter, giving her shoulder a light squeeze. "C'mon, mum's made tea."

Hermione stepped off the brick step down to the wood floor. She followed behind her dad toward the dining room, taking one last glance at the photographs.

The family of three sat enjoying their meal. Hermione's parents passed small conversation about what happened at work that day.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger owned their own Dental Office, and they were very pleased with their work. However, it always seemed to be the same day by day. One person had a mouthful of cavities, another begged for their tooth to be pulled… It was wawawawa in Hermione's ears at the moment. Normally she'd be glad to be part of the conversation, but she took another bite of her food and stared at the table cloth, there was a frayed string that absently gathered her attention. She was thinking about her science studies and though she may be young, she found quite the interest in the subject. In fact, Hermione made the highest grade in her class. And that's why it was beginning to bother her so much! Did she miss something? Because, she knew absolutely, one hundred percent, blue plus blue did not make brown.

The girl took a drink then looked up at her parents who turned those blue eyes toward her with curiosity and humor. "What's on your mind, darling?" Isobel asked, smiling. "You've been quiet the entire supper."

Goodness, Hermione thought. Isobel had such a pretty smile—beautifully straightened, white teeth, framed with pretty red lips. She then looked over at her dad, his smile just as nice. They had always reminded her of one of those couples you'd see on a fifty's television show - happy, go-lucky; no care in the world. Absentmindedly, she touched her teeth, her very imperfect teeth. "Blue plus blue doesn't make brown," Hermione started suddenly. This was the perfect time to explain what she had learned that day in school.

August snorted as he raised his fork to his mouth, "Nope. I'd say it makes… well, blue." He shared another laugh with his wife, who was shaking her head humorously. They obviously didn't understand what their daughter was saying. Normally when she began a lesson for them, it was with excitement.

Hermione's fork clattered against her plate. An overwhelming pressure set into her chest and she placed her hands on her forehead sighing with frustration. She felt a cold tingle on her fingertips. "No, dad. That is not what I am saying!" The lights above the table flickered then stopped. If It caught anyone's attention, no one paid any mind to it.

Both Isobel and August lowered their eating utensils and looked cautiously at their daughter; She was never one to have an outburst like that. "What on earth, Hermione…" Isobel scolded lightly.

Hermione shook her head, "Sorry."— and she was sorry. She knew what came over her: she didn't like to find information that she was taught to be true, only for it to be wrong.

Isobel reached over placing her hand on her daughter's wrist, "Sweetheart, what's gotten into you? Did you have a hard day at school?"

"No, I had a great day actually," she raised her head, looking into her mother's confused face.

"Then what is it?" August asked, concerned.

Hermione took in a deep breath, "Blue and blue do not make brown."

Her parents shared a look of bewilderment, "You've said this once already. No, it doesn't. Unless you change up the coloring of blue, I imagine it'd be darker or lighter…" August stated with reasoning, "you know, like cerulean, navy…"

Hermione tried to hold in an eye roll, "Well dad, your eyes are blue," she turned her head to her mother, "and your eyes are blue." Raising a hand to her own irises, Hermione continued, "Mine are not. They are brown. Blue plus blue does not make brown."

Her parents stared at her in silence — both were very obviously confused, concerned… and look to be caught. "So what is it you're keeping from me? Did you have… did you have an affair?" She asked blatantly toward Isobel. She read about affairs in that cosmopolitan magazine as well.

"Hermione!" August blared, slapping his hand flat onto the table, "you apologize to your mother right now!"

The young girl pushed her chair back and stood up, arms straight down at her side, "you yelling at m-me w-won't get you a-any a-answers!" Hermione felt tears swell up behind her waterline. How dare he yell at me like that! She was always one for blunt questions… they never seemed bothered by it before. Why now? Had they been caught in my lifetime of a lie?!

"Go to your room young lady! And do not come out until you're ready to apologize. Do you understand me?" August demanded, his voice quiet but scary.

Hermione stood there clenching her fist and gritting her teeth. She looked to her mom, who was marveling back at her with alarm.

"Hermione, do as I say now." August leaned back in his seat, his knuckles were turning white from squeezing the butter knife.

The girl turned around and stomped away from the table and all the way up to her room, slamming the door behind her. She sat down on her bed, her arms crossed as she glared at a pair of slippers on the floor.

She never got into trouble — and she didn't like this whatsoever. So why had he taken it so hard? Was I right? Did my mother have an affair? Ugh! She swiped away the fallen tears from her cheeks.

Hermione knew she was too smart for her age — and knew much more than a lot of kids her age would. Most of the time this was something she really admired about herself. But at this moment in time, she wished she was like the normal ten year old who rubbed crafting glue between their hands… or thought it was funny to scare the teacher with a rubber snake. Those were things Hermione felt were stupid and immature… Kids made fun of her for being too uptight and smart and somehow she was okay with that.

Taking a deep breath, she laid back onto her bed and criss-crossed her fingers over her stomach. She watched as the ceiling fan spun round and round and round. The sound of rain began pattering against her bedroom window. She sat up and opened the sill, letting the cool breeze and fresh smell of rain in.

Perching her chin upon the backs of her hands, she watched outside the window of cars passing by. Men holding umbrellas open for their significant other as they walked down the sidewalk. A skinny stray dog began rummaging through a waste bin, probably looking for food. She gazed out the window for a while, all the ruckus outside seemed to have calmed her. She supposed she could apologize to her parents for the way that she acted…

Just as she was about to pull away, she noticed a fat, orange cat sitting upon a stone wall across the street. Cats don't like rain. She furrowed her brows together and squinted her eyes— was the cat… looking back at her from way down there? A knock on her door took her attention away from the animal. She turned around and sat cross-legged on her bed. "Come in."

Her bedroom door squeaked open as her mother walked inside. Hermione peeked up at her mom, then looked away, worrying at her bottom lip. "Hermione, can we talk?"

The girl felt those gosh-darn tears swelling up again. She nodded and patted the open spot on her bed beside her. Isobel sat down, her feet on the floor, and her head hanging low. "Sweetheart… I think that there is something you should know."

Hermione gulped. It was true then. Her dad, August Christian-James Granger was not her father. It's okay, you can handle this. She plastered on a brave face. "It's alright mum, I forgive you," she said quietly. "He's still my dad. I have to say, I am disappointed that — that you did that to him. But I love you all the same," she stated matter-of-factly.

Isobel sort of snickered, "You've really got to stop reading my magazines." She followed up with a sigh. Caressing her thumb over Hermione's cheek, she began, "I appreciate your forgiveness… that is one of the reasons I love you so. Your heart is big and forgiving! You take each day with grace… you're smart, outspoken, kind. Oh, I love you so so much, Hermione Morganna Granger."

Bleh. She hated when her government name was used against her. It was so long and so many syllables. Ridiculous. "Mum, why… why did you have to give me such a ridiculous name?"

Isobel chuckled softly. There was the Hermione she knew and loved. She took her daughter's small hands into her own. "Hermione, I didn't have an affair with anyone."

Hermione felt her cheeks redden. "Then… dad did? And you raised me as your own? I—I haven't ever seen a picture of you pregnant with me," she said with a sudden realization.

Isobel shook her head, "No, sweetheart. I didn't have an affair and neither did your father." She cleared her throat, "You see… long ago, your dad and I tried and tried to have a baby… but we couldn't. Something was wrong with me and we couldn't conceive. I had gone to the doctor countless times… tried medications, went through treatments. All failed."

Hermione widened her eyes. She didn't know whether to be hurt, angry, sad… happy? She felt a mixture of emotions. "I'm — I am adopted?"

Isobel's blue eyes were enhanced by the tears, her nose red, and her lips trembled, "Y-yes. We adopted you the night after you were born."

"I wasn't wanted," Hermione said, taking her hands away from Isobel.

Deep sorrow filled Isobel's features, "Of course you were wanted! That is why you are here. You were wanted by me, your dad… by your birth mother." She reached back for Hermione but the young girl scooted away.

"Then why doesn't she have me? And what of my birth father?" Hermione asked quietly, still not looking into her mother's face. She stared at her comforter. It was the only thing that could hold her from crying.

"She died. She died after giving birth to you, sweetheart. And your father… no one knew of him." Isobel watched the distress and betrayal fall upon her little girl and it shattered her heart into a million tiny pieces. There was nothing she could do in that moment to make it all better. "Me and your dad love you so much, Hermione. You are our baby. We don't look at you as if you were adopted. We look at you as you are ours. The only difference is I didn't give birth to you. But you are my babygirl. My daughter."

Hermione's nose began to run. Her cheeks were wet. And she did not want Isobel in her room. "I need you to leave me alone, please."

"No— no. Hermione, darling. Please let me stay with you. Let us talk about this…"

Hermione figured out what she felt, finally. And it was anger. She was angry. She glared at Isobel, not caring about the hurt that crossed her face. She flared her nostrils. "Go. Leave me alone. Please." Her plea was demanded through gritted teeth.

"Hermione. No. This is a time that I —"

"I said… GO!" Hermione screamed, her finger tips began to tingle once more. The glass of her window shattered, scaring the both of them to their feet.

August heard the yelling and was just about to go upstairs to check on his wife and daughter, only to be interrupted by a knock on his front door. He tried to ignore it, but another knock followed. He strolled over, swinging the door open ready to tell whoever it was that now was not the time for visitors, nor he didn't want to buy anything, or want to know about the Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ — "Yes?" He greeted with aggravation.

"Good evening, sir. My name is Minerva McGonagall. I believe it's time we met."


	4. Chapter 4

Albus Dumbledore stood before the student body inside the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As it was still early in the month of school starting back, he was requesting that all students make it to their dormitories on time as the Prefects had extra work to do at night. Once he was done with a few other announcements, the hum of students chattering began as he took his seat at the long table where all the professors sat together to eat their meals. The man clapped his hands twice and full buffets of food popped up along the tables, enchanting the students and staff to eat.

Minerva's seat was right next to Dumbledore's. Normally this was good. It meant she was his right hand. This night, however, she sat guarded, to herself, and didn't want to speak. She took a sip of her wine and stabbed a piece of chicken on her plate; her appetite barely present.

"You know Minerva, you can tell me of your resentment rather than acting passive aggressive." Albus said leaning toward her.

She chewed her food and swallowed hard, glaring at him. "It's not passive. I will act the way I please." She took another drink, wiped her mouth then said, "I don't agree with what you are doing with Hermione."

The man lowered his eating utensils, sighing, "and why is that? You heard her mother clearly before she died. She doesn't want her in the wizarding world, so we must make do. She will have all that she needs if she comes back to our world— she will be taken care of. And she is going to a couple who wants a child and has been unsuccessful…Hector is a dear friend and confidant of mine. I trust him and his ability to find worth in people. He already keeps an eye on these people as they are his family. If anything were to go wrong, he'd report it to me," he said reasonably. "Why is that so hard to comprehend?"

Offended that the man was treating her as though she were incompetent, she flared her nostrils, "Are you going to tell the intended parents of Hermione's abilities? Especially since her mother claims to be one of the greatest sorceresses in the world. The child won't be able to hold back forever. It'll climb out of her. She will have her own magic plus the magic from Morganna swirling inside of her. That is a lot for even a seasoned witch or wizard to take on… And, if the legend tells true of Morganna the Great, that is a lot of dark magic… Or do you plan on cutting off Hermione's magic? Do you have the ability to do that with such power residing within her?" she scoffed. She knew Albus was one of the greatest wizards to ever live… but even he couldn't take on this power.

He brought his goblet toward his lips, taking a long drink before speaking. "Minerva, do you wish to give up your post and magic to take on this child? Or do you know of anyone better? I am giving this baby a way out of the magical world and a way back in if it happens to be… safe for her to come back. It fell upon our laps." He shook his head, "We've already discussed this… the child would be placed into spotlight. She wouldn't have a childhood… she'd be torn every which way."

For a split second, yes, Minerva did want to give up her job. But her senses kicked in and she knew that it just wasn't for her to do. So if she wasn't to take on such a responsibility, she reckoned she really had no say for what was done with Hermione… but that didn't take away her ability to care. "Allow me to come with you."

"No. You may spend more time with the child before I leave tonight, but you will not be coming with me." He sighed, "Once she is settled, you may go and check on the child with your own eyes, but only from afar."

She stood from the table trying to not cause a scene with her oncoming temper. She knew there was more to this than Dumbledore was telling. She left the table, albeit calmly, and went to the hospital wing to find Madame Pomfrey. The Mediwitch was taking care of Hermione for the time being. Minerva strolled into the ward and to the door that lead into Poppy's rooms. She tapped lightly and was welcomed in. "I've just gotten the lass to sleep." Her welcoming smile faltered, "What's wrong… You seem distressed."

Minerva plopped down onto Poppy's sofa and placed her fingers to the temples of her forehead, rubbing them in circles. "I am. I don't know why this —" she held out a hand toward Hermione, "babe has such a hold of my heart. Why do I care so much?"

Poppy chuckled lightly, "Because you're human. And you've got emotions. It's okay to admit to it, you know?"

The latter witch blew out her cheeks, "You of all people know I never could have children. That's why I enjoy being a professor so much. I can be their school mother… take care of them here— especially the ones who don't have a good home life."

"So I assume that is another reason why you won't take on Hermione," Poppy said. "She could be your baby."

Minerva sighed, "I accepted my fate of not having children long ago. I am good where I am at… what I am doing. And Albus found a place for her— with a young couple who has been trying for a baby. One that wants a baby. So it makes me feel a bit better… however I am still ill at ease."

"Why?"

Minerva knew she wasn't to tell… but technically she hadn't been sworn to secrecy, yet. "Poppy, we must swear an oath if I am to tell you this information that you never tell a soul."

Poppy laid Hermione into the bassinet, covering her with a light blanket. She took her wand out and performed a quick oath with her oldest friend.

They both sat down, "It must be really big if you can't trust your best friend with such information without a magical bind."

Minerva ignored the comment, "What do you know of Morganna Le Fay?"

Poppy furrowed her brows together in confusion. What did this have to do with Hermione? "Erm… Morgan the Faerie or better known as Morgan the Witch… A powerful enchantress… Apprentice to Merlin… According to some, a very dark sorceress… and long dead."

"Oh yes, she's long dead… as of last night," Minerva said confidently.

Poppy twisted her face, "What?"

Minerva nodded, "Yes. Morganna died last night, after giving birth to that little girl."

"Err... " Poppy gave her friend a skeptical look, "The woman would be ages… over a thousand years old. There isn't any possible way for her to have been one — young enough to carry a child — and two, through all the years of living, she died of childbirth? The wars… the battles… her age. And three — to live to be above three hundred, well… that's even pushing it. Are you sure you weren't hoaxed?" Poppy reasoned.

"Oh, without a doubt, I was not hoaxed. It was her. But she didn't know it was her. She knew her name… But it seemed… very questionable. It's what happened in the end that made it so believable." She cast a glance off to the side as she worried her bottom lip, "I was hoping to be a part of the autopsy… however, Dumbledore has taken the body away. I went down to the Poison Garden this morning and she wasn't there. I figured we'd have laid her to rest where she died, you know as she's a sorceress of nature… she'd give back to the earth. But it seems Dumbledore has other plans… again." Minerva said nastily.

"No… no. She will be laid to rest there. I was under the impression that the young woman brought into me this morning was just that — a young woman who died during childbirth. She is here. Albus took her downstairs to the mortuary and asked me to call my brother Mikel to perform an autopsy. I didn't think much of it, he is always asking me or Mikel to perform odd tasks… I have gotten used to it over the years, I've stopped asking questions." She sighed, "I figured he didn't want to bring in anyone from St. Mungos as it's a lot of paperwork. But now it makes sense… if this woman is who you say she is. Mikel is used to dealing with ancient magick and trained and specializes in all that realm and well, Morganna is definitely a part of that."

Minerva felt some relief, "Could I see her?"

The two witches entered a cold bunker just beneath Poppy's dorm, where a tall man stood over the young woman's body. He glanced up from his magnifying glass and to the two women, smiling, "Come on in."

It always gave Minerva the chills walking into this place, and not because of it being cold. It was a sad place to be… but there had been more deaths at Hogwarts than anyone cared to admit; whether it'd been from an injury during a Quidditch match or a spell gone wrong… Death seemed to be a company every few years or so.

Side by side, Poppy and Minerva strode toward the metal table where Mikel stood. His hair was messy and fell in his face. He wore a white button-up shirt and his sports coat was thrown off to the side. "This is absolutely phenomenal. When Poppy called for me to look over this woman.., I didn't think it'd be this—treasure — I, I couldn't believe it. Professor Dumbledore of course made me swear to secrecy, but I imagine if you're down here… you already know." He winked.

Poppy gave a quick nod, "So… so, it really is… Morganna?" she said just above a whisper

He nodded excitedly, "Oh, yes. It's her. Well, the likeness of her." He set his magnifying glass down and began rummaging through the stack of parchment on the second metal table. "See here," he held up a painting , "these red lips were painted with blood. Morganna's blood." He then walked over to a phial of red liquid and picked it up from its place-holder, "so what I did here, I scraped a bit of the red paint from the picture then I drew some blood from this woman's body… Inside this phial," he held it up to the light, "I have a potion that will turn the blood black if the blood is from a different source… it'll stay red if it's from the same. And I'll be damned! It's the same blood!"

He went back to the portrait of Morganna and held it up once more, "This picture is over one thousand years old. It'd been preserved by magic, of course." He shrugged, "After I figure out what really caused her death," he pointed at the young woman's body, noticing that Minerva was about to state what happened, "Yes, I know childbirth, but there is something more to it…."

Mikel held the art with both hands again, "I will be studying this artifact. This picture holds some type of secret. But the magic over it is… it's dark." He let out a breath, "It's amazing though… Dumbledore brought all of this to me." Mikel set the portrait down then held out his hands toward the table of parchments, runes, and tools. "He said it's been tucked away inside a vault here at Hogwarts… it's brilliant!"

Poppy and Minerva stood in awe, taking it all in. Sure it was brilliant to him, but this was disturbing to Minerva. "How did you know to use the red from her lips?" Minerva asked. "What do you mean the likeness of Morganna?"

Mikel was too ready to answer questions, "Well in University, we learned when studying ancient pieces such as these, they didn't have the paint as we do nowadays… it was made from the fruits of our lands; Charcoal, animal fat… but, when it was someone of importance, most of the time any reds painted into the scene by the portraitist would be blood of the one they are portraying. So through time, we've discovered, it is because they are hiding something within the page. Normally it's not those of darker magic, easy enough to figure out." Mikel waved his hand, "a charm or two will uncover whatever is hidden. But, with this…" he pointed at the painting of Morganna, "it'll take some time." He rubbed his hands together, "by likeness… well, it's her blood… and from what Dumbledore explained to me… her spirit. I think we will find all the answers in this painting," he said beaming. "At least, that is my hope."

Minerva shook her head then stared at the lifeless body, feeling terrible and uneasy, "Well, if you don't mind, Mikel… please let me know what you find."

Mikel glanced up from Morganna, "I will do as I can, Minerva." He smiled, "It was lovely seeing you."

The woman's cheeks reddened, "You, too." She turned and left Poppy and Mikel alone. She entered the room where Hermione was still sleeping soundly in her bed. She grabbed some parchment and quill from her friend's desk and sat down on the sofa beside the bassinet and began writing down the little things she had noticed about the baby in just the few short hours she'd known her.

Back downstairs, Poppy stood with her brother, "I imagine you won't be able to give full detail to Minerva as Dumbledore told you not to?"

Mikel gave a quick nod, "I can only tell the two of you some things… but Professor Dumbledore knew you all would be down here. I swear he's got seer's abilities," he chuckled. "Poppy, I fear this will be very dangerous information… It isn't a normal thing to come across. And I understand why Dumbledore doesn't want anyone to know. Even us harboring what we do know, I feel could become… a serious matter."

His sister's expression held question. Mikel took a deep breath, "This is information I will not share with Dumbledore, yet…" he whispered, "because I could very well be wrong… and I am afraid of what could come of it. But, normally, I can take memories from one's mind three to five days after they've died… Well, I can't bring forth anything. It's as if she's been obliviated." He shook his head exasperatedly, "I can't even bring up memories of her name. My fear is she transferred everything over to that baby. And if that's the case, I can't interrogate an infant's brain. That could very well… Well it would kill her."

"Will Hermione know of these memories? Will she just remember things that never happened to her?" Poppy was beginning to understand the situation was graver than she'd anticipated. "That would make one feel mad."

Mikel shrugged, "I don't know."


	5. Chapter 5

Minerva McGonagall sat upon a stone fence, her body formed into a cat; for what seemed like only moments. But it had been a few hours now. She observed the tall blue house across the street. The sun wasn't showing it's face, dark grey rain clouds made an appearance. Light rain splashed off the pavement and a cool breeze began to whirl. She watched as Mr. Granger hopped into his automobile after giving his wife, Isobel, a kiss goodbye. Isobel waved while smiling, then went back inside. Minerva waited and watched some more.

The hustle and bustle of people around her moved in fast pace, but only appeared as a blur. One lady strolled past her, then came back, patting Minerva upon the head, then pulled out a bag of treats from her pocket and left a couple pieces. Minerva meowed in thanks, but once the woman walked away, she pawed the food to the ground. A large black car came speeding down the road; another car honked. She heard the sound of laughter from a child coming from the house behind the stones she sat upon. Her cat eyes flicked back to the house she'd been watching; the front door opened. A little girl with frizzy dark brown hair, dressed in a raincoat and red wellies stepped out. She popped open her umbrella and awaited her mother to lock the door. Minerva readjusted her paws; her instincts were to go to her, though she continued to sit. The rain began to fall a bit harder and she couldn't make out what the mother and daughter were chatting about. She watched the pair walk the sidewalk until they were out of sight.

_Minerva placed her letter inside an envelope and handed it to Albus, "Please make sure they receive this…" She held baby Hermione within her arms, looking down into the pretty eyes staring back up at her. "You are going to be great someday, Hermione. Don't give up. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise." The woman handed Hermione to her colleague. She pulled the blanket that wrapped her little body to just beneath her chin. "And don't ever let the Muggles get you down," she whispered._

_Dumbledore held the baby close, gazing down upon her face. "You still have the chance to take care of her, Minerva. I see just within the day you've watched over her, you've developed a maternal love for her."_

_Minerva shook her head. She felt the tears swell up beneath her waterline. She'd never been the type to attach herself to just anyone… especially in such a short amount of time; perhaps it was the fact that this was a baby who had lost its mother… no telling where the father was… and she really had no one in this world. Minerva liked to think Hermione had her… and maybe one day she would. Though it didn't exactly mean anything to Hermione at this moment, nor may it never matter - but she was going off to a family she wouldn't know. What if the family gave up? What if Hermione wasn't what they bargained for?_

_"I can't Albus. I fear that I am too old and too set in my ways to take on one child. I have many children to look after - I am selfish. I simply cannot give up my magic. I cannot give up my time for just one child. I…" she sighed, a tear fell from her left eye. "Does it make me a bad person?"_

_"You have empathy and love, Minerva. It's been only you for… ages. Since you and Mikel ended things so long ago. You've found the norm in being alone and you're comfortable with that. Going from taking care of children here day in and out is different than taking on a newborn. The students here are old enough to take care of themselves for the most part. No one blames you for not wanting to do this. It is understandable. I assure you, if Hermione were to know, she'd understand as well." The tall man spoke calmly; his blue eyes twinkling behind his round spectacles._

_Nodding, Minerva forced a small smile upon her lips. She reached a hand to Hermione's head, patting it gently, "Until we meet again." Standing back, she pulled her shawl around herself, holding tightly as though she needed to keep warm. Dumbledore tilted his chin in farewell and with a POP! He and the baby disappeared into thin air._

The rain continued and got heavier throughout the day. Minerva expected to see Isobel Granger back soon after she had dropped Hermione at school, but she didn't make an appearance until about three or so hours later. She had a couple bags hanging from her arm, a medium-sized pink box in her hand, and the umbrella still in the other. The cat regarded the woman as she struggled to get the keys from her pocket. She wanted to help, but reckoned turning from a cat into a human in front of public view wouldn't be a very good idea. Before she was to prattle her way down the stone to an alleyway, Isobel reached her keys and unlocked the door.

The day continued on; the rain let up. The wind was still nippy. Minerva woke from a nap to a car door shutting. It was Mr. Granger arriving home. This meant Hermione should be back from school soon! Minerva jumped from her spot on the fence and pranced to the alleyway to change back to her human form. She had been morphing from human to cat for so long, she had figured out a way to be fully dressed from the fur to robes. But today, she went from robes to an ankle length dress. Taking her wand, she smoothed out the wrinkles of her sleeves and adjusted a maroon wide-brimmed hat, embellished with a cat pendant atop her head. This wasn't her normal everyday attire and quite frankly, she was very pleased. She stepped back round the corner. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out an envelope:

_Miss H. Granger_

_The Bedroom at the Top of the Stairs_

_8 Heathgate_

_Hampstead Garden_

_London_

A bit of nerves settled in on her chest. She'd not enjoyed the company of the little girl in so many years. Readying herself to go ahead and meet the parents before Hermione got home, she was distracted by taps of running footsteps coming toward her direction. It was Hermione. She was jogging, holding onto the straps of her book bag, with a big grin upon her face. She bustled through the front door of her house. Minerva thought surely she'd had more time before the young girl returned. _Perhaps I should wait until this evening…_ The witch thought. She placed the letter back into her pocket and stood, contemplating what she should do. She noticed a window on the lower level had been cracked open. Being partly a cat, she had the ability to turn on a sixth sense. She meandered over to the house, turning her ear; she listened.

The family was just sitting down for dinner. Quiet clanking of silverware hit the plates. Isobel and August were speaking of their day… Then Hermione began talking. Minerva's heart palpitated. The little girl's voice was soft. She was speaking of colors, then her tone heightened into frustration; completely different from the happiness that eluded her when she came running from school. August raised his voice. The sound of a chair screeched across the floor; feet stomping up the stairs. _CLACK_! A door slammed.

Minerva turned away from the house and looked back to the stone wall she was sitting upon. A thought to go back to sitting as a cat to await a better moment crossed her mind, instead another cat, who was orange and fat was perched in her spot, licking its arm. It was like the other cat noticed the woman staring at it; the cat looked up at the house. Was it Fat and Orange's home? Or was it just being nosy? Minerva knew the way a feline thought - normally there was no reason or intentions behind what the animal does. It just does what it wants and makes the ones around wonder.

_"I think it is time she knew, Auggie." Minerva heard the woman inside say._

_"I don't want her to know… It will just hurt her. It will hurt all of us. Especially you, dear. You heard what the doctor said. You really shouldn't be worrying yourself or stressing yourself out." August tried._

_"I know. But right now our little girl thinks you cheated on me. I don't want her to feel that way about you. I don't want her to feel resentment toward you for something you didn't do. Wouldn't you rather her know the truth?" Isobel's voice trembled._

_"I think I'd rather her think the worst of me for that, rather than her knowing we've lied to her all of her life. I don't think she'd ever forgive us for that. I don't think I could live with Hermione knowing and hating us for that." The man's tone was low, worried._

_"I know, darling. Hermione could never hate us. She's too big of a good soul within her to hate us. Angry at us, absolutely! But never hate…" Isobel said that with more confidence than she felt._

_The rain began to fall once more, a little harder than before. The wind started to blow again, colder. Minerva was about to form her wand into an umbrella when all the sudden she heard a shout, then a window shattered, throwing random pieces of glass down to where she stood. She couldn't wait anymore. Hermione needed her help. She stepped up to the door, taking the golden knocker and, dut, dut, dut._

She waited a few moments before the door swung open, the man of the house stood with a frustrated glare, "yes?"

Minerva stood a little taller. She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin, "Good evening, sir. My name is Minerva McGonagall._ I believe it's time we've met."_

The man scrunched his face, "With all due respect, Miss…what was that?"

"McGonagall, Minerva… you may call me Minerva," she answered.

He gave a jilted nod, "Right, with all due respect, _Minerva_. We're not really up for company just now. Could you come by at another time?"

Minerva shook her head, "I am afraid not, sir. You see, I am here on a very limited frame of time."

August scratched the side of his head, "Look. Unless you have a life or death situation upon you, I really don't care to know who you are. I've got to go and tend to my family." He turned, not even shutting the door behind him and went rushing up the stairs to his wife and daughter.

Knowing very well and better, the witch placed one foot over the threshold and allowed the other foot to follow. She gravitated to the stairs, hearing the sounds of sobbing, and frustration coming from August's mouth.

"_Hermione!_ What in God's name did you do?" He yelled.

"She _didn't_ do it!" Isobel reasoned, "It was as if something was thrown through the window."

Hermione stood stock-still, "I p-promise, dad! I didn't d-do anything!" Her eyes were wide with worry.

"I'll go get the broom." Isobel said, stepping toward the door.

"That won't be necessary." Minerva spoke suddenly, taking the three before them by surprise.

Once August caught a hold of his words, he flicked his tongue, "Lady, I told you to leave. Should I call the law to come and get you?"

Isobel blinked, "I am confused… who are you?"

"Someone who is breaking and entering!" August spat.

"I don't think you can actually call it _breaking_, as you left the front door wide open." Minerva chided, then moved her attention to the woman, "My name is Minerva McGonagall."

Isobel's face fell. She blinked, _once, twice, threefourfivesix_ times.

_Isobel pulled a glass from a top shelf in her kitchen. She grabbed the bottle of red wine out of the freezer and poured it into her cup. She stared out the window at the bit of moon she could see. The night sky was dark; the stars were barely shining. She, in her own mind, felt its because it was such a sad day. She took a sip of the bitter drink as she crossed one arm over her stomach. Just twelve weeks ago - she had a positive home pregnancy test. It was the fourth one this year. She made a fast track appointment with her doctor as she'd miscarried three times before. "I'm sorry," Doctor Phillips said. "I am terribly sorry."_

_August had gone to bed after an evening full of trying to make his wife feel better, yet again. There was only so much he could say… and only so much that she would listen to. Saying sorry over and over and over could only feel okay after it being said once maybe twice. She loved him for it though. She smiled at the thought of him rubbing her feet when they got home. He covered her with a blanket and sat in silence she'd wished for until she told him to go to bed. August tried to stay with her, yet she insisted she needed some time alone._

_Tears fell willingly, her nose began to swell up and redden. It was becoming obvious; she was just not going to have a baby. She drained her glass and rinsed it. Taking a deep sigh, she turned the light above her stove off and walked towards the stairs._

_Tap, Tap, Tap._

_Isobel furrowed her brows then glanced at the clock on the wall. It was eleven at night. Who on earth? She considered going to wake August, but curiosity consumed the best of her. She opened the door to a tall man with a long white beard - who looked like a wizard. Perhaps Merlin, the one from that silly Disney movie. His piercing blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses. He had a long nose and he wore a smile. "Hello," he greeted. "I am Albus Dumbledore. Could we speak, please?"_

_Isobel stepped back, Eerm… sir… are you lost?" She reached behind the front door to the phone on the wall, ready to call the police if needed. But perhaps this old man had lost his way from a nursing home._

_"Oh, no. I am not. I was sent here by a distant relative of yours. He said you were in need of assistance," Albus spoke softly._

_Isobel chuckled, "I assure you, sir… I do not need any assistance. You, however, may. Can I call you a cab?"_

_Albus blinked and shook his head, "No, m'dear. I do not need a cab."_

_A tiny coo escaped his arms, catching the woman's attention. "What is that you've got there?" Isobel asked, perking up._

_Albus chortled, "Ah. This is Hermione. Would you like to hold her?"_

_Of course she would like to hold her! Was this old man serious? Obviously outside his mind, mad! Why in the world would he, dressed like that —long blue robes, covered in sequins of all colors —be out with a small baby so late at night? Surely, he's escaped a madhouse and kidnapped the baby! "Yes!" she said, holding out her arms._

_The man handed the bundle over. Isobel felt an instantaneous relief. "Well, hello there, little one," she greeted the child. "How are you?"_

_Hermione yawned and cooed up with one of those gassy baby smiles. "Aww… she's so sweet. Who is she to you?" Isobel asked looking back to where the man stood— but he wasn't there. She glanced around in panic. He was nowhere to be found. Her heart started to race. She could very well be an accomplice to a kidnapping. Her breathing became rapid. And the baby could feel the panic as she started to wince and scrunch her nose._

_"Ah, no… no, no, sweet baby girl. It's alright." She took a breath. It was going to be just fine. Isobel stepped back inside her house, locking the door. She held Hermione close to her as she raced up the stairs to her bedroom. "August!"_

_The man sat straight up from sleep, his eyes widened with panic. "Isobel? Yes, what is it? Everything okay?"_

_"No. No, look." She held out Hermione toward him._

_His mouth dropped open, he looked to the baby, then to his wife, back to the baby, then back to his wife. Oh my —he thought —his wife had done gone wonky and stole a baby. "D-darling… Erm… where did you get that?"_

_She could tell by his expression that —yes —indeed, he already thinks she's gone mad. "Well, a man showed up… dressed like Merlin…"_

_"Merlin? As in the wizard from the Disney film cartoon, Merlin… Darling?" Yep, she's lost it. He stood up slowly from his bed. "Hand me the baby," he said._

_Isobel let out a breathy laugh, "What? No. You think I'm making this up, don't you?"_

_"Dear… well," his face was contoured into many different directions of concern. He could see that his wife was very upset. He took a breath and sat at the edge of his bed, "Alright… tell me what happened."_

_So she told him._

_"I was off to bed… but then came a knock at the door. I thought to come wake you up when I heard knocks but I figured you needed to get up early for work in the morning…" she began._

_"... And I thought he was just as mad as you think I am!" Isobel finished breathlessly._

_August stared at his wife in disbelief, but knew from her desperation that she was telling the truth. "I guess we need to take her to the police."_

_Isobel nodded, "I agree."_

_Hermione started whimpering — as if she didn't like that plan. "Shh, darling girl… could you please go to the…" she sighed in sadness, "well our future baby's room and grab a diaper and there is a container of formula in there as well." She had gathered a few things from planning._

_As August went as requested, Isobel began unwrapping Hermione from her blanket. Her little body stretched out. An envelope crinkled beneath her back, catching Isobel's attention. "What's this?" she whispered to the little girl. It was addressed to Isobel and August. Isobel's heart began beating fast again._

_"Auggie…" she called. He came rushing back into the room._

_He held up a diaper and a bottle already made, "Yes?"_

_"C-come here…" her voice shook._

_Weary, he padded over to his wife and the baby, sitting down beside her, "What is it?"_

_"This is addressed to us." She held up the envelope to him, her hand shaking. He took it from her hands and read the back: From the Desk of Minerva McGonagall_


	6. Chapter 6

Isobel stared at the woman, remembering that night from so long ago. Nerves triggering shudders through her being. She had always wondered if she'd ever meet the infamous Minerva McGonagall. August clearly didn't remember Minerva had written the letter; however, he also hadn't sat down over the years rereading it on Hermione's birthday as Isobel did.

"Mum?" Hermione looked up to her mother with confusion and concern.

"Should we open it?" Isobel's hands continued to shake as she held the parchment.

August took her hands within his own; caressing her skin with his thumbs, he crooned, "Settle yourself, Iz. We will read it together."

Isobel slipped a finger beneath the perfectly rounded edge of the golden sticker that held the envelope closed, nicking herself in the process. She sighed at the sudden sting. She looked down to the embellishment and swore the newly serrated edge was smooth. She shook the thought away; perhaps she mistook the appearance. She lifted her finger to her lips to stop the bleeding with her tongue.

Dear Mister and Missus Granger,

I am reluctant to write this as I am having a hard time agreeing to the matter at hand. However, I as well as others have found it is better for all in the party that we have granted this mission to you.

Tonight you will have received a rather large bundle wrapped in pink; her name is Hermione. She was born just last night by a woman who had died right after giving birth to her. Her name was Morganna and she wished for Hermione to be sent to a home where she would be well taken care of, safe… and loved.

You are probably wondering why you all have been chosen for this… and I must say, your selection did not come lightly.

As you sit with young Hermione in your arms, please pay attention to some things you ought to know…

Before Hermione was dropped off with you, the man that you met at your door had to take care of the legal obligations that come with your adoption. Albus Dumbledore will have met with a Muggle Affairs Officer (attached you will find information on the Ministry of Magic, Muggle Affairs, and more) that deals with mine and Hermione's world, now also yours. The complexity of this subject is too much to explain in-depth just now. Her certificate of birth will be filed and she will be yours. You may be confused by this, but please continue in trying to make it through this letter without thinking you've gone mad, as I can assure you: you have not!

As of now, Hermione has been placed under the protection of Albus Dumbledore, myself, and a few others who wish to not be named.

It is of the greatest importance that Hermione stay outside the Wizarding World until we feel it is safe for her return. Our hopes are that by the time she reaches eleven years of age, we will be able to have everything in proper order. Of course, when that time comes it will ultimately be up to you on whether or not you will want to allow her to return to us. I would be hesitant on not allowing her back; Hermione is one with very special talents. Her magic will consume her if she is not properly trained and she will need to learn how to use it as she ages. Now, this simply does not mean that we will be taking her away from you for good. We will have her with us for nine months out of the year to provide her training; Hermione will return home to you during the Easter and Yule holidays, as well as the Summer. This schedule will be for a period of seven years.

On the night before Hermione's eleventh birthday, I will make an appearance as long as all is prepared for her return. I will provide a letter to the young Witch and I will explain everything everyone needs to know.

If you opened the letter correctly, the golden sticker on the back would have cut your finger, drawing blood. If this is something that you want to do, take said sticker and place it on the bottom corner of this letter where you will see a red rose. The blood, even if there is barely any, will mix with the blood of the rose, magically sealing you as Hermione's blood kin. Though you may not have given birth to her, the enchantment will concrete your status as relatives.

If this is not what you want, simply close the letter and within twenty-four hour's time, we will be notified that the spell has been denied and will return for Hermione. You will never remember this day if you decide to give up the child.

It is essential that you never speak of this outside your family.

Hermione likes her bottle warm.

She tends to fall asleep best when she's holding someone's finger.

Best of Luck,

Minerva McGonagall 

"Isobel do you know this woman?" August asked hastily.

Isobel shook her head, "No, but…" she looked to her husband hesitantly, "she's the one who wrote that letter on the night…" Isobel glanced at Hermione, giving her husband an indication of what she was talking about.

August's face fell. He knew exactly what Isobel was speaking of.

Before Minerva could answer, Isobel spoke up, "It's the eve of Hermione's birthday." She turned to her daughter, "Oh, Hermione…"

The frizzy haired girl stared back and forth between her parents, completely confused and suddenly scared. "What is it, what's wrong?"

Isobel kneeled down leveling herself face to face with her daughter. She placed her hands on both of her shoulders, "Sweetheart, nothing is wrong…". The woman glanced to her husband for any type of advice, but he stood there swaying on his feet, white-faced with worry. Her thoughts turned to the first time Hermione ever exhibited accidental magic.

"Ma-ma!" Hermione held her little hands out reaching for Isobel. The woman turned from the Christmas tree kneeling down to pick her daughter up, "Sweet girl, want to help mummy hang ornaments?"

It had been a year and some months since they had taken on Hermione as their daughter. She was growing at a blistering pace, curly hair atop her head, and was incredibly smart.

"Ment!" she squealed as Isobel held a plastic candy cane toward her daughter, helping her hang it from a limb. The little girl began clapping and laughing as she succeeded. The pair continued on until August came walking into the living room. He kissed his daughter on her forehead then his wife on her lips, "How are my lovely ladies this evening?"

Isobel handed Hermione over to her husband, "Say, 'We are good, Daddy!'"

"Good!" Hermione giggled.

"Ha ha! Very good." August placed his hand softly against Hermione's head, pulling her closer to place another kiss on her head. "You two have gotten a lot done today," he observed, admiring the sitting room; it was decorated in all sorts of Christmas decor.

"Oh yes… However… This little miss has… well, she sneezed a few times and…" she picked up one of broken ornaments from a box, "a few of these busted."

August blinked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I think she's doing a bit of accidental magic. I read about it in one of those letters that we received shortly after we adopted Hermione." Isobel crossed her arms, awaiting her husband's response.

August took a deep breath and let out a long sigh, "I don't think I will ever be used to any of this." He let out a shaky chuckle. It did frighten him. Magic was something you read about in fiction or saw in the cinema. It wasn't supposed to this 'real' thing. He loved Hermione though and, as hard as it was, he accepted her for what and who she was. "I thought that wasn't supposed to happen until she was a bit older."

Isobel touched the tip of Hermione's nose with her finger, causing the sweet girl to smile, "This little one," she got closer and rubbed her nose against hers, "is special."

Hermione stared into her mother's eyes. There was fear and sadness, yet they were still warm and loving. "Mum?" the little girl whispered.

"I… I don't know how to tell you this." Isobel glanced over her shoulder to Minerva first, then to her husband.

"Well, you've already told me that I was adopted… I am sure anything else won't top that." Hermione tried to smile, but her muscles failed, and her lips quivered instead.

"How about we go back downstairs and talk?" Minerva suggested.

Still staring back at her daughter, Isobel nodded. She stood tall and placed her hand on Hermione's back to move her along down the stairs to the sitting room. August turned to the newcomer. "After you," he said, holding out his hand.

Minerva tilted her chin, but drew her wand, causing August's face to twist into confusion; he watched closely.

The woman held out the stick toward Hermione's room, whispered an incantation, and all the shards of glass floated into the air and toward the broken window. The pieces came together like a jigsaw puzzle, mending themselves; not even a scratch remained on the surface. It was as though it had never happened.

"H-how…th-tha…" August's jaw hung open. "Incredible," he said just above a whisper.

Minerva grinned, "Yes, well…that is only the beginning of what I can do…and that mess," she pointed to the window, "is only the start of what Hermione is capable of." She turned and headed down the stairs to the sitting room where Hermione and Isobel would be waiting for her.

August's chest weighed heavy. He walked over to the window, kneeling on Hermione's bed to reach it. He grazed the glass with his fingertips. Nothing - Nothing indicated that it was ever broken.

August arrived to where his family and their guest sat. They were all waiting on him quietly. He sat down beside his daughter and wife on the sofa, while Minerva was across from them in a solitaire chair. "Well, let's get right to it, shall we. We can leave what happened upstairs for another conversation at a different time. There are more important matters at hand." She didn't wait for an answer from Isobel or August, though she did see the wary looks upon their faces. Minerva pulled from her bag a tea kettle.

Hermione's brows rose; There is no way all that fit into such a small bag.

Minerva touched the top of the kettle with her index finger. Instantly, steam came pouring from the spout.

Hermione felt herself pinch her own arm. This all had to be a dream! She glanced over to her mum, then her dad; they didn't seem shocked. Well, perhaps dad was a little bit in awe, but mum…was completely normal. Hermione fixated her attention back to the kettle.

"What do you think of that, Miss Granger?" Minerva asked, the corners of her lips drawing upward.

"I - I -" She stuttered. She wasn't sure what she thought. It was interesting…cool…was this woman a magician of some sort? How did - "How did you do that?"

Minerva leaned forward, giving both of Hermione's parents a sly look, then back to the girl, "Magic!"

Hermione's face contorted, "Magic? That's not real. It only happens in books or movies. Fairy tales." 

Minerva chuckled, "Oh? Well, what do you call this then? How did I make that kettle hot without heat? I didn't even add water to it, did I?"

"I imagine it's a trick of the eye. You must've already had water in it and there has to be a button you pushed for dry ice to spew out. Dad uses it during Halloween when he makes up our front yard as a cemetery," she stated matter-of-factly.

Minerva laughed a little louder this time. "You're a very studious one, aren't you? Smart! But I assure you, there is no button. Come, take a look."

Hermione looked up at her mother for permission, who in return gave her daughter a slight tilt of her head and a subtle smile. The little girl stood from between her parents. She approached the tea pot to investigate. She picked it up, holding it close to her face, inspecting it. The kettle was warm. She felt the vibration of the bubbles inside. She opened the top of it. There was, in fact, bubbling water. "How?"

Minerva stood, holding her hands out to take the kettle back. She set it on the table, "I told you, Miss Granger. Magic." 


	7. Chapter 7

"I don't understand," Hermione sighed with exasperation. "There's no such thing as magic."

Minerva looked to the young girl's parents, "How did you cover up her accidental magic all these years?"

Isobel shrugged and sighed, "Everything always fell into coincidence. Truly, I didn't know how to tell her… How does one tell their child they have… magic?"

August chimed in, "I didn't know, either… I guess I felt like it was something I couldn't explain. Or my fear that someone would find out and steal her away for a science experiment."

Hermione twirled around to her parents, "Magic? Me - magic? Are you mad? And if it was true...which, I very much do not believe...how could you know something like that and never tell me? You would have made me live a life full of lies!" She felt a mixture of anger and sadness, but mostly confusion; tears wet her cheeks in full force.

The young girl then began laughing, becoming hysterical, with snot dripping from her nose. Why would her parents lie to her? What had she done to upset them so badly to make them want her to feel this way?!

This, of course, made Isobel weep. August sat, gritting his jaw. Minerva knew there were many reasons as to why they hadn't told their daughter. They didn't understand it fully, for one.

A person can read a book or a letter multiple times, but if you've not experienced something within your own self, you may never understand even when provided with an abundance of information. They'd tried to, to their credit-Isobel, especially.

"Miss Granger, I understand your feelings about your parents not telling you. I also understand theirs." Minerva reached back into her bag. She pulled out a rather large book and set it on the table next to the tea kettle. Dipping her hand back into the bag once more, she handed to Hermione an envelope that was addressed to her:

Miss H. Granger  
The Bedroom at the Top of the Stairs  
8 Heathgate  
Hampstead Garden  
London

Hermione dried her face with the sleeve of her arm, "What is this?"

"That is a letter to you. From me." Minerva chuckled. "It is your letter of acceptance to our boarding school, Hogwarts."

Hermione, flabbergasted, began raising her voice to her parents, "So now you want to be rid of me! First. you tell me I am adopted. Now you're telling me I have magic! This boarding school is probably a mad-house! Send me there to be - be medicated because I'll be running around thinking I have magic! Ha ha!"

Isobel stood to go and hold her daughter, but Hermione stepped away. For the first time that evening, Hermione's eyes fell to her mother's very large, round belly. Hermione began laugh-crying again. "You — you can have one now. So, why not send me away?"

"Hermione!" Minerva, Isobel, and August, now standing, scolded in unison.

Hermione felt her fingers tingle. All she wanted in that moment was for her mother and father to shut up and sit down and leave her alone. She turned to them with such a force of anger and stamped her foot; both Isobel and August did exactly what she wanted. They fell into the couch, with their mouths shut, and looked off to the walls as if their daughter wasn't even in the room. Hermione stumbled back once she realized what had happened. She turned around to Minerva; her face blank.

This was far worse than what Minerva ever expected. Not that she with the help of others wouldn't be able to tame and teach Hermione how to use her powers… it'd just be a bit more… difficult.

"I… I…" Hermione tried to speak. Her breaths shallow, she held out her hand toward her parents, stammering, "What happened?" to the older woman before her. She sniffled, "Why aren't they saying anything?" Her voice trembled as she spoke, "Why won't they look at me?"

Minerva tried to figure out the best way to explain it all to the girl without making her feel even worse. "Miss Granger… we aren't trying to make you feel this way-rejected, or deceived.

"Your parents aren't sending you away for the sake of raising their other child. What I am here for today is to provide you information about your birthright. You are a very special little girl, who will one day be able to harness your ability and use it in such wonderful ways. I assure you, I am not a physician to take you away. I am merely here to explain to you the school you could and should attend to help you learn a different side of yourself."

Hermione shook her head, "Is this…" she pointed at Isobel and August, "magic?"

Minerva nodded, "Yes, but this only happened accidentally. You didn't know what you were doing, or how you were doing it… but this is why you should come to Hogwarts, so you can learn how to not make mistakes like this." She sighed, "Might I ask what did you feel before this happened?"

Hermione shrugged, "I don't know… I told myself in my mind that I wanted them to be quiet and to not pay any attention to me." She paused. "And, I guess, what I always feel when I get angry or upset-my fingers start to tingle." She held up her right hand and wiggled her fingers before her face. "They have done that for as long as I can remember. I just thought it was just a trait of mine… like my dad's ears get red when he's upset…"

Minerva chortled, "You really are a smart girl, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded, "I know. I like school. I like doing work, learning things…. Kids my age find me weird for it. They make fun of me. I don't really care, but sometimes I wish I could be average."

"You should never wish that about yourself. You should take being smart and interested in education as a blessing. You will be wise beyond your years if you use the things you know properly.

"Hermione, Hogwarts is a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We will teach you how to transfigure things, how to use charms, mix potions…ride a broom."

Hermione felt amused, "Ride a broom? Really?"

Minerva chuckled, "Yes!"

"What about the basic things, like math or science?" Hermione asked.

"We teach all of it. Just in a different way than what you're used to."

The little girl gave the older woman a curious look, "How do you know me? How do you know my parents? And will they be okay?"

"Your parents will be fine. I will fix them as soon as you're done asking all the questions you need to ask. I actually was the one who helped your natural mother give birth to you." She noticed Hermione's eyes light up, and regretfully continued. "She passed away soon after. There was a loss of blood and we were too far away from help to replenish her. Your birth father, I do not know. I knew his name was Parker. I searched near and far for him… but no information of his identity surfaced. Unfortunately, I can't really give you information about either of them, because I didn't know them. I don't know where they came from… nothing." Minerva hated lying about this… Mikel had found an abundance of information but Dumbledore had made her and Mikel swear to secrecy. And really, the research has never stopped. The only way Hermione could ever know the truth was if she figured it out on her own. "But you, I took care of you for just a short time." Hermione's brows rose. "I didn't know your adoptive parents… they were chosen through a friend, who is actually a distant relative to Isobel and August…"

Hermione nodded, processing everything. "The friend… is he magic?"

Minerva nodded, "Yes. A wizard. He is a very successful potioneer in the Wizarding world. His name is Hector Dagworth-Granger." She paused, "Hermione, your adoptive parents…though they didn't make you…your mother is your blood kin. When she and your father adopted you, your mother did bind herself to you through that connection."

This was so much to process, Hermione decided. She really did begin to believe she was in a hellacious dream or she was going mad.

"There are so many things I am sure you would like to know. I am positive you will come up with questions about yourself and what to expect days after this. You may write to me and I will do my best to explain. This book, it's called Hogwarts: A History. You can learn everything there is to learn about the school inside. And do not be alarmed if suddenly another page is added to it. There are new things written into history every day about Hogwarts." She smiled at Hermione's widened eyes.

"Your letter has your welcome and a list of all the school supplies you'll need. This," she handed Hermione a leather pouch, "will cover all of your books and supplies." Minerva felt obligated to help out where she could. "I will send you a letter before school starts to help you find your way into Diagon Alley. Do you have any more questions?"

"Do I have to go?" Hermione asked suddenly.

Minerva sucked in a breath, "You don't have to go. But I believe it would be very unwise not to."

"When would I start? It's a boarding school-how long will I be gone for?"

"You would come home during Easter and the Yule Holidays, as well as during Summer. Otherwise, you would be with us at Hogwarts," the woman explained. "You would be there with many others your age and older. It's a period of seven years. You would start next year in September."

Hermione looked down at her feet, "Can I think about it?"

"Of course you can… You have a whole year to think on it. Write out a list of pros and cons with your parents. And, if you wish to visit the Wizarding world before you come to Hogwarts, that is okay to do, too. Let me know when and if you would like to visit, and I will guide you there."

"Do you think they'll be upset with me?" Hermione glanced over at her parents.

"For choosing to go to Hogwarts?"

"That…and for this?"

"Well, let us find out, shall we?" With a wave of Minerva's wand, the pair sitting on the sofa turned to Hermione and the Witch. Isobel and August blinked a few times out of their daze.

"I have explained all there is Miss Granger needs to know for now…I did tell her if she had any more questions she may contact me," Minerva began. "However, we would like to know your thoughts."

August spoke up, "I am angry that my daughter wants to act like a mad person." His ears were definitely showing this. 

Hermione glanced over to Minerva.

Isobel touched her husband's arm, "She isn't turning mad. She is angry, too. At us. And rightfully so. We should have told her many years ago… This is something that I would have wanted to know when I was her age. I would feel like the identity I had grown up with would be a complete sham…." She sent a sidelong glance at Hermione, "This is an impressionable age. Her whole life has been made of one thing…and we haven't helped her excel at what the other part of herself is."

August nodded in understanding. He guessed he just wasn't used to his little girl acting in such a manner. It upset him. He felt like he was already losing her to puberty. He could see it in Hermione's face earlier when he called her his beloved nickname, Minnie-Mouse. The little girl had forced a smile at it.

"Hermione only wants to know if you will be angry at whatever decision she makes."

Both of her parents shook their heads, looking at their daughter lovingly.

"Never. We'd be sad of course, because we'd miss her. But never ever be angry at you for being… you," Isobel said.

Minerva smiled, glancing up at the clock. "I'd best be going. I have a class to teach first thing in the morning." She looked at Hermione, "I think that you should visit the wizarding world. I will gladly give you a tour of the most popular places of Diagon Alley before you make your way to Hogwarts. Read that book, read that letter. I will send an owl in two days' time. If you decide to write, all you need to do is wrap the letter with a bit of twine around it's ankle and it'll know where to go." 


	8. Chapter 8

"I think we should go to Diagon Alley. I really need to get my wand! My robes… _books_!" Hermione said to her mother. They were putting away dishes. The sun was shining brightly through the window. It was a nice Saturday afternoon.

"I think you're right. How about we go tomorrow?" Isobel asked.

It had been almost a year since Minerva McGonagall had come to give Hermione her acceptance letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The three had visited the Wizarding World twice since then.

The first time, the family was absolutely skeptical, nervous, and of course scared. But McGonagall had helped them through the transition from Muggle World to Diagon Alley, easily enough.

Minerva had purchased a few books that interested Hermione at Flourish and Blotts; it was her thought that the more information Hermione would receive could help her make a decision on whether or not she wanted to attend Hogwarts. It seemed to have helped as Hermione sent a request to revisit the small town.

The second time, Minerva helped Hermione set up an account at Gringotts Wizarding Bank as well as give her parents access to send money as well. This place had terrified Isobel and August as it was run by goblins; these creatures were normally things one would see on a film. August seemed to have let down his guard once he had observed how the goblins had transfigured his money from Muggle to Wizarding coin. He went on and on for days after that about how intriguing it was!

The time had come though. It was a month before school would start at Hogwarts. Hermione had officially made her choice: she would be going. All of the books she read had given her a peace of mind as it also helped her parent's acceptance as well.

Hermione needed to purchase all of her supplies and more books (which she was most excited about). Minerva had given her money last year for these items, but now she had set up an account, she hadn't really any need for it anymore. The family tried to return the money to her would-be professor, but the woman insisted for Hermione to use it in whatever manner she wished; A _Happy Birthday _gift, she said. It was books that the girl ended up buying.

"Alright, should I ask dad if he wants to go as well?"

Isobel nodded, "yes. Will you check on Alphie? He's been sleeping for quite some time." She glanced at her watch, "at this rate, he'll be up all night!"

Hermione stepped into the sitting room where her father was lying on the couch watching an old game of football, "hey dad."

August looked up at his daughter with a smile, "dear?"

"Mum and I were thinking of going to Diagon Alley tomorrow. Would you like to come? I know you've got work on Monday. But time is starting to tick down for me to leave…" She could see the sadness in her dad's eyes. He had been wallowing in some ways lately. He knew it was about time for her to go. He had almost tried talking her out of it but thought better; he couldn't be selfish.

"I wouldn't mind tagging along," He answered.

"Ok. I will let mum know," she felt saddened by this. She turned on her heel and went up the stairs to her little brother's room.

Alphie was sitting inside of his crib, observing a small toy within his hands. He smiled once he realized his big sister had entered the room. Grabbing the side rails, he pulled himself up to his bitty feet and began stamping them with excitement.

"Hello little man!" Hermione greeted. His fuzzy blond hair stood up from the static of his blanket.  
He began babbling, touching her face; drool fell from his lips.

Hermione gasped, "oh, you're so gross." She carried him down the stairs and handed him off to their mother, "dad said he would like to go tomorrow."

Isobel yawned, "that's great. We can head out first thing in the morning."

Alphie grabbed hold of his mother's ear ring and pulled.

Isobel let out a loud,"_ow_!"

Causing sudden excitement, Alphie's bottom lip plopped out and tears began falling down his face.

"Oh, no, no! It's alright, lovely. You just caught mummy off guard." Isobel said, trying to calm her son.

Hermione stepped back from her mum and brother. Isobel was too occupied with Alphie that she hardly noticed the girl slip out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her own bedroom. She pulled a large tome from her bookshelf and laid down criss-crossed on her bed. Flipping through the pages of _Hogwarts: A History_, she had found herself getting more and more excited. She absolutely couldn't believe that there would be ghosts flying about the castle as if they were just part of normal everyday living-human life!

The staircases moved, there was a _Forbidden _Forest that held all creatures of sorts. Just the pictures alone of the place was breathtaking! She absolutely could not wait to see it in person. She found herself getting more excited about the abundance of classes that the students _had _to take and _could _take once past their first year was absolutely astonishing! There was even a chapter dedicated to every single witch or wizard who had worked there as a Professor or Headmaster!

She turned to the very last page of that chapter to look upon who would be there during her first year. _Professor Minerva McGonagall _\- Hermione smiled. Though it happened on all of the pages, it still put the girl in awe to see the photographs moving as if they were a part of a film.

_Professor Severus Snape, _he looked… well he was a bit scary. His long black hair, long curled nose, and his deep dark, almost black eyes, made Hermione _not _want to be in his presence and hoped very much so that she wouldn't be.

_Professor Sprout _seemed to be a fun individual! She was sure she'd like her very much. As she continued through, she found there was one box at the end unpictured. Inside the box was written: _Position to be filled!_

The time had passed. The sun had just hit the hills… and night birds began to sing. It was near the end of Summer… just one more month and she'd get to be at Hogwarts!

_Beep, beep, beep...beep, beep… beep. Beep… beep. Beep…_

Hermione rolled over and hit the button of her alarm clock. The time had read six o'clock. She stretched her small body out, releasing all the sleep from her limbs from head to toe. Rubbing her eyes, she yawned, and sat up. She smacked her lips a few times, scratched her side, then swiped the dried drool from her mouth. She stood from her bed, her feet hitting the cold floor made goosebumps cover her arms and legs. Making her way to the hall, she peeked into Alphie's room. He was still asleep, which was good. He needed as much sleep as he could get before they left. Hermione continued to creep down to her parent's room. She went to her mum's side, placing a light hand on her shoulder, "_mum," _she whispered.

The woman woke instantly, "wh- what is it? All okay?" She asked as she sat up.

Hermione nodded, "_yes, it's time to wake up! We've got to get a move on with the day!" _

Isobel let out a breathy laugh, "I'm up, I'm up."

Hermione giggled, "Alphie is still asleep."

Her mother gave a tired grin, "good. And we must let him sleep until almost time to go. Let dad sleep a little longer as well."

Hermione left the room to take a shower so she could ready herself for the day. She dressed in a pair of levi blue jeans and a purple t-shirt. She threw a small shoulder bag over her neck; it held her supply list. Tying up her converse, she heard her brother babbling and her mother talking back. She supposed her parents would be busy enough while she was gone and that was a good thing. Maybe they'd miss her less. _Maybe dad won't be so sad. _

"Would you like me to do your hair for you today?" Isobel asked, examining Hermione's wild curls. She set baby Alfie into his high chair and walked toward her daughter.

Hermione laughed, "no it's okay, mum! We don't have time!"

"We haven't even eaten breakfast," August stated as he entered the kitchen.

"We can eat there," Hermione countered.

Her parents shared a knowing look, "Okay. Let's get going then. You've got your list?"

Hermione patted the bag that hung by her waist, "yes!"

As soon as the family stepped foot into Diagon Alley, Hermione felt at ease. The tense excitement fell from her shoulders and she felt _in place. _It was definitely busier than the other two times she had visited. She imagined it was because most of the people were there doing their school shopping. She didn't see many children before either, this time, there were so many! The hustle and bustle was consuming; taller and older kids held really awkwardly shaped brooms. Some carried bigger cauldrons than Hermione. There were a few who had books floating alongside of them as they walked down the alley. Mums and dads were hurrying their children along. Others were taking their time. Everything felt surreal but pleasant.

After gathering money, they started with the first thing on the list: A uniform. "Ms. McGonagall said we could go to _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions _to get fitted for my robes." Hermione said, glancing down at her map.

"Then lead the way!" August patted his daughter's shoulder.

Once they arrived to the shop, the three of them stared at the purplish building in awe. There were moving mannequins in the windows showing off the outfits that the owner must've made.  
As they entered through the glass door, a bell rung allowing the shop keeps notice of arrival, even though she was in the middle of the room, adjusting a sort of tall blond boy's robes. The woman glanced over to the family of four. She had a pin in her mouth, a measuring tape floating in midair next to her and the boy, and a quill pen nestled behind her ear. She had a pinch of fabric from the boy's sleeve between her fingers. Her spectacles slid down her nose, and her ruby red lips spoke, "welcome. I'll be with you in just a moment. _Mister Malfoy, please stand still." _She chided.

Hermione nodded with excitement and watched as the _Mister Malfoy _was fitted. She couldn't really see his face in the mirrors, but she could tell his hair was slicked back with an awful amount of gel. She almost didn't notice the boy standing next to him - he was much shorter with jet black hair and rounded spectacles. He didn't seem to move as much as Malfoy had, and he was quiet while Malfoy kept talking and talking and very obviously getting on Madam Malkin's nerves as he wouldn't stand still.

The doorbell rang again. In came a very elegant woman. She had on a long dress that expressed royalty. "Madam Malfoy," Madam Malkin tilted her head in greeting. "Your son will be done in just a moment."

The woman smirked, "_Draco, _everything else on your list has been picked up by Dobby. Is there anything you would like to do while we are here?" Even the way the woman spoke was elegant. Her tone was like silk - soft and pretty. Hermione knew she could listen to that woman read on tape all day long.

The boy called Draco spoke up a little louder. His tone was much different, posh and snooty. "Yes, _Mother. _I want to look at brooms. I've done told you this twice today."

"Dear you know you can't have a broom at Hogwarts this year." The woman answered kindly. It was completely as if she didn't realize the attitude; The thickness of pure rotten in his tone was insulting. __

"I don't care. I want one." Draco insisted.

"_All done!" _Madam Malkin announced, helping the boy out of his robes. "Let me package these for you and I'll meet you at the register," she said, she snapped her fingers and all of her tools landed on a vanity close by.

As Draco stepped down, he looked at the boy standing beside him, "see you at school." He turned away from him and began walking toward Hermione. His lips held a sneer but as soon as he had noticed her, it dropped. His eyes softened and as he approached her, he held out his hand, "I'm Malfoy. _Draco _Malfoy."

Hermione looked over her shoulders at her parents who weren't too pleased with the boy they _just _witnessed being a complete and utter arse to his mother come up to their daughter, playing kindly.

Hermione knew she needed to be nice, no matter how rude someone could be. She knew from an even younger age that some people act like a bully because they don't get the attention they thrive for in their homes… and it can also be a defense mechanism. So she reached back to the boy and took his hand into her own. "Hermione Granger." she spoke softly, his hands were cold.

Draco hadn't taken notice to her parents, "will you be attending Hogwarts this year?"

"_Er, _yes… my first year," she answered.

He smiled - actually smiled, "see you at sch-"

"_Draco, come. Beneath you." _His mother spoke, her sweet voice was traced with ice.

Hermione watched as Draco's eyes went blank. He didn't even finish saying goodbye. He turned and strutted away. Hermione watched as he had, then to her parents, she shrugged. August moved closer to his daughter and said, "just continue to be kind. Seems like he will be one that needs it."

Hermione agreed. She smiled at the boy who was now stepping off the pillar. He smiled back but didn't say anything.

Once Madam Malkin was finished taking payment for the second boy, Hermione finally stepped up and the woman began to measure her every which way, _including _her pinkies.

After about an hour of getting fitted for robes and shoes and a Witch's hat, Hermione was starved. Baby Alfie had awoken from a nap, so they four of them stopped off at Rosa Lee Teabag and had a quick bite to eat.

Once the shopping was coming close to an end, Baby Alfies pram was weighed down with bags, books, and a cauldron; even a telescope and brass scales. Isobel had to move the baby to her body carrier and cart him around that way.

"Do you want an owl, a cat, or a toad?" August asked.

"It isn't necessary, so none. Not this year…" Hermione answered. She really did not want the responsibility of a pet just now. She'd have way too much to do at school!

"Okay. Well, the last thing on the list that you've been putting off, even though it's been the most exciting thing you've wanted… your _wand_!" Isobel smiled.

Hermione smiled even bigger, "I know! I'm just so nervous. I read about it _and _the wand has to choose me. I can't just go in there and pick out any wand. It has to… I don't know, fit me?"

"Well, which place do you want to go? I see two different shops on the map." August said, holding the parchment out for Hermione to see.

"Ollivander's! I read that it's the most popular…" Hermione answered.

This store was different than all of the others. The lights were low and the walls were covered in boxes upon boxes. A lone candle was lit and was set upon the counter. Out of nowhere one of those boxes came zooming from a nook of boxes and landed with a _plop, _creating dust around it, next to the candle. It became eerily quiet, when suddenly a man popped around the corner. He was middle aged, Hermione supposed. He had on a white long-sleeved shirt which was untied at the neck, his chest hair poked out, and a golden tag hung from the shirt: _Garrick _

Garrick smiled at the young Hermione, "_Morganna is it? _I remember when your father bought his wand."

Hermione furrowed her brows, "I think you might have me confused with someone else. However, my second name is Morganna." _And my mother's name… _She wondered for just a brief moment if he had ever met her.

Garrick shook his head curiously, "no, no dear child. I know _all _the wands I have _ever _sold. And when a soul walks into my door, I am reminded of whom I sold which wand to. Because each of these boxes contain a wand that has a brother, a sister, a cousin, a mother, a father, a grandfather, a grandmother… a _family_."

"A name appears on the label, and if it doesn't work for you, your name will appear on another, and so on, and so forth. That's a secret that no one knows. It's all a part of the charm that comes with buying your first wand. Once I sell the wand, I tap the box three times, and the name of whoever purchases will be removed." He sighed, he only ever had to tell his secret one other time, many years ago, to a young man named Tom Riddle. "And when you came in," He approached the counter, picked up the long rectangular box and opened it. Inside upon some purplish silk sat a wand. "This one was for you, _yes_, your father's wand is the sister to this one."

Hermione turned to her father, who in return shook his head and shrugged. She turned back to Garrick, "you do realize that he is my father." She pointed to August.

Garrick nodded, "yes. He _is _your father. But your soul father is someone completely different."

Hermione felt her heart panic and the words fell from her mouth before she could comprehend what she was saying. "Who, _ahem, _who was he?"

Garrick answered without hesitation, "Alaric Zabini."

Hermione's body trembled, "is, is he alive?"

"Yes. He's very much alive. Come now, let us see if this wand fits you."

Hermione heard her mother whisper to her dad, "_I thought his name was Parker_…" 


	9. Chapter 9

It was exciting. Everything about it. Holding that wand in her hand was something she'd never felt before. It made her feel so alive — the magic coursed through her veins and out of her fingertips into the wand. She needn't try another one. This one felt right within her hands. It felt right within her. It _almost _made her forget what Garrick had revealed. She paid for her wand and left in silence with her parents and brother.

"Is there anywhere else you'd like to go?" Isobel asked of her daughter, in hopes that it could help take her mind off of what just happened.

Hermione shook her head, "I think I am ready to go home. We've got everything… I'm tired. I'm sure baby Alfie is over being in that wrap." She tried to force out a smile, but ultimately failed. She felt lied to… _again. _Did Ms. McGonagall know? And if she _had _why did she make up a name? Was there some sort of anonymity rule that needed to be followed? No, McGonagall would've told her that… right? She wouldn't have lied and said she searched far and wide for someone who didn't exist, would she?

Before they went to leave, Hermione said, "hold on!" She stepped back inside of Ollivander's. "Sir?" She called out.

Garrick appeared once more, "yes?"

"You only spoke of my father. Why not my mother?" The little girl felt sick to her stomach asking this.

Garrick shook his head, "I never met your mother. I assumed she was a Muggle, but that didn't make much sense as your father is a pureblood and of higher power. Most don't affiliate themselves with other blood statuses unless it deals with business. But, darling girl, your aura, the wand, just _you, _your mother was not a Muggle. I can see that clearly. And though you may not go by Morganna, your soul must… because," he took a deep breath, "a wand is a very peculiar thing. It has magic within it that even some of us who have studied wandlore for many centuries cannot even begin to comprehend what lies within. But what we do know, is that these wands are bound by soul. Each family develops a soul bond, even though you may not _know _him, he is bound to you by soul as you were his seed."

Hermione was lightheaded. This was way too much information for a young girl. How much more about herself would she learn? "When you say higher power… what exactly do you mean by that?"

Garrick scratched his forehead, "I mean royalty, Dear. Most Pureblood families are very rich, very powerful, and not always on the good side of things. Take this as you will, but I wouldn't go looking for something _or _someone who hasn't been looking for me."

Hermione thanked the man and approached her parents outside of the building, "let's go home."

The Grangers stepped out of the Wizarding World and approached their car that August had parked outside the abandoned building they had exited from. Isobel changed little Alfies diaper while Hermione and August loaded everything.

"How are you feeling?" August asked Hermione.

Hermione loaded the cauldron, "I was completely excited at the start and really throughout. It was fun… an adventure. But, as much as I appreciate this newfound information, I feel completely angry." she puffed out her cheeks, "he for one shouldn't have said anything without your permission. How was he to know that I knew who exactly you were to me? He could have exploited so many things today, dad. If I hadn't found out almost a year ago that you and mum are my adoptive parents, today could have gone completely wrong."

August agreed, "I know. I wish I could fix it for you. I wish I could make things better. If you decided right now all of this is too much for you, I would support you. I will support you either way. If you want to find answers… I will help you."

Hermione shook her head, "no… he made it clear that Alaric Zabini is probably not a good man."

This took him by surprise… but he nodded, "then so be it."

The family of four was quiet on their way home. They stopped for food, but the only words passed between them were what they wanted to eat. Once home, everything was unloaded and placed in the garage for safe-keeping. Then everyone was off to bed.

Hermione laid in her room for hours, staring at the glowing stars of her ceiling. So many questions circled her mind like a merry-go-round. She continued to ponder on so many things until she came to the conclusion that she didn't want to think about any of it much more. But one thought lingered: did the man who was her real father know that she existed?

_Ugh,_ she knew she had a set of parents that she were perfect; that were her _real _parents. No one else mattered. _It doesn't matter about him… _ She didn't need to know about the Alaric. What and who she had now is all that mattered. _I am loved… I am loved by two people who didn't give up on me for who I am…_

She fell asleep soon after and didn't wake until later in the afternoon the next day.

Being Hermione, after lunch, she grabbed one of her new books from the garage and settled herself at the dining table and read the rest of her day away. Her dad arrived home a little past five. Her mum had taken the day off from work as Alfie was feeling unwell. Overall, aside for the pouting from her baby brother, it was a great day.  
Hermione was completely taken with the books and she barely noticed her surroundings. She was extremely excited to get back to school. Summer holiday was almost to an end and this made her antsy. Soon after she finished a chapter in one of her books, she asked her mother to take her down to the crafting store to purchase a chalkboard. After they arrived back home, Hermione had her dad nail it to her bedroom wall and that's when she began counting down the days that she would soon walk through the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. __


	10. Chapter 10

Dust fell from her chalkboard as she erased the number one. Hermione turned around and observed her room. It was tidy. The books she'd not be taking with her were situated on the shelves neatly. Her closet was open, revealing that most of her clothes were packed away in the luggage bag next to her bedroom door.

Glancing up to her ceiling, she felt a bit nostalgic; she'd miss her little glowing stars. She sighed, her throat tight, her chest feeling weighed down. She was definitely going to miss home. Now that her time had run out, she was wishing she had a bit longer before she left. But she'd be home in just a few short months to celebrate Christmas with her family and that was something to look forward to. She took the chalkboard her dad had put up and packed it inside her bag as well.

"Hermione!" The girl jumped. It had been so quiet, she had forgotten her family was still there.

"Coming!" Hermione hollered from her door. She smiled at her room, smiled at her baby blue blanket, and smiled at the glowing stars on the ceiling, "Bye," she whispered. Grabbing her bag, she went down the stairs.

It was so early that the moon still hung high. August took his daughter's luggage from her to put into the car. Hermione smiled at him as he did, but he could only give her a saddened smirk back. This tugged at the girl's heart.

Isobel was sipping on a water when Hermione entered the kitchen, "Hi, good morning," she greeted her daughter.

Hermione frowned, "Dad doesn't want me to go."

"Of course he doesn't. I don't want you to go. We're going to miss you. But we know it's going to be a great experience for you to learn more about yourself. It's an exciting time for you. It'll get easier in time." Isobel reached over and touched her daughter's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "I am already counting down the days until you'll be home for the holidays."

The four of them piled into the car and drove to grab a spot of breakfast, then on to King's Cross Station to help Hermione on her way.

"Platform 9 ¾ ?" August said in a question as he looked around the station, "Where the hell is that?"

Hermione and Isobel were, of course, searching as well. "Er…" Hermione's brows furrowed. She was beginning to worry. The clock on the wall across from them struck, it was ten. "Oh, we're going to be late."

Isobel chuckled, "We're not going to be late. We have plenty of time… we will find it," the woman said confidently, although she wasn't very sure either.

Suddenly, a mother and her four offspring were rushing through the crowd of people. The woman was in a bit of a hurry. "C'mon!" she commanded, "Platform 9 3⁄4 this way!"

Hermione noticed the trollies and an owl…. "Mum," she tugged on her mother's sleeve then pointed to the red-headed family of five, "she said the platform number!"

Curiosity got the best of the Grangers and they followed the family in a conspicuous manner all the way down to two brick walls between the numbers nine and ten. They watched on while the mother was hurrying her children along… through the wall, "H-how…" Hermione's heart thumped. Her parents were gawking at what they had just witnessed.

Just as Hermione felt the nerve to ask how they had gotten onto the platform, a boy, who looked familiar, stepped up to the older woman; she was very genuine and kind to the boy and she helped him through.

This made Hermione's heart beat fast all over again, "Excuse me!" Hermione heard her own voice say.

The redhead whirled around to Hermione and her family, "Yes, dear?"

"How… I…" Hermione began. Something she hardly ever did, unless she was at a doctor's appointment, looked to her mum for help.

Isobel spoke up, wearing her kind smile, "It's our first time to Hogwarts and we're not quite sure how to get to the platform."

The woman smiled back, "That will be two today. How extraordinary! Well, what you do is," she placed her hand on Hermione's back, "stand directly between the numbers nine and ten and walk on through. But if you're nervous, do it in a bit of a run. You'll go right through, unless, you're late. The train leaves at eleven. You've plenty of time."

"Are we able to go along with her to say goodbye?" August asked.

In return, the redhead grinned, "Of course, you are. I'll walk through with you. I take it, you're Muggle?"

Knowing and hearing this word from Hermione and her study habits, they nodded.

"Alright, you must always be with a witch or wizard to get through this platform. I have a bit more magic residing in my bones, so I will be able to help both of you through. Let us be sure your daughter here can make it on her own, yes?"

Hermione stood before the wall, honing in on the bricks. She stared at just one, counting her breaths inwardly, she kept telling herself, Just one step at a time. Everything that surrounded her went into slow motion. She felt a bit queasy and she didn't think she'd make it on through.

"Okay," she wriggled her body free of nerves then stepped, pushing her trolley. She took in another deep breath. This is stupid. I am going to run into this wall! She squeezed her eyes shut and ran. She ran and ran and ran… until she heard steam whistling. She opened her eyes and to her left was a red steam engine, embellished with its name: Hogwarts Express

"Holy cricket!" Hermione exclaimed breathlessly. Her mum, dad, and the red haired lady arrived behind her.

"You did great," the woman said, "all of you. My name is Molly Weasley and this is Ginny." She presented her daughter. None of them seemed to have noticed her during all the hustle and nerves of going through the blasted wall.

"I am Isobel. This is my husband, August, and our daughter, Hermione, and son, Alfred. Thank you so much for the help. And it's an absolute pleasure to have met you."

Molly nodded, "It's no problem at all. Look for my son, Ron. He's a first year like you. I'll bet he will be in Gryffindor. Good luck to you. I best be off to say goodbye to my own. I can meet you all again here after the train leaves to help you back through." She scurried off without an agreement from Hermione's parents. But they had seen no problem in it - they appreciated her help.

Hermione turned to her family, "Well, this is it, isn't it?"

Both of her parents were tearing up, "Be sure to write to us, will you?"

"I will, mum." Hermione threw her arms around the woman and squeezed tight, "I will miss you."

"I will miss you." Isobel hugged back just as tight.

Hermione moved over to her dad, "I'll miss you, too."

August placed a kiss on his daughter's forehead, "You'll do well. Love you."

Hermione placed a hand on her baby brother's head and smiled, "Keep them busy."

Alfie babbled his goodbye, causing the three of them to laugh.

"The Hogwarts Express will be leaving in ten minutes! Ten minutes!" a voice called out.

The Granger family shared one last hug before Hermione almost confidently turned away from them to get onto the train.

The inside of the train was completely different from what it was outside on the platform. Students were everywhere! Some were already dressed in their robes, which Hermione then chided herself for not thinking to do. Paper airplanes were flying about. There was a toad on the floor… Older girls were laughing inside one of the cabins. Hermione continued along down the aisle to find herself a place to sit. She peeked into another cabin where, ah, her eyes widened and she felt her cheeks turn red, a boy and a girl were feverishly snogging.

"You can sit with me," she heard a kind voice say.

It was a few cabins back from the snogging mess, which she was grateful for. She forced a smile and nodded, hurrying herself along. "Hi," she greeted breathlessly.

"You looked lost."

"I felt like I was. I… I just didn't think snogging was allowed," Hermione answered embarrassed.

"It's not. But that won't stop people from doing it. Well, sit."

"I'm surprised you remembered me," Hermione said suddenly, "especially after… Your name is Draco, right?"

"Yes. And, don't worry about my mother. I have to be a certain way in public unfortunately," Draco answered honestly.

"So it's all a show?" Hermione asked. 

"Yes, but I would greatly appreciate you not telling anyone that. I have a reputation, as my father would say, to uphold," he answered boredly. "I can't be nice to Gryffindors. I can't be nice to mudbloods…." He rolled his eyes. "Unfortunately, those are things I will have to do because people will report back to Lord and Lady Malfoy. But in private, a completely different story."

Hermione furrowed her brows, "That is extremely… horrible! Why not just stay quiet instead of being mean?"

"Clearly you don't understand. That's okay, though," Malfoy smirked.

Hermione shrugged, "What if I am in Gryffindor?"

Draco's face fell, "I hope you are not."

"What if I am and people see you here on the train with me now?" Hermione countered.

"It was an honest mistake," Draco answered, "you seem to be sure you'll be one."

Hermione shook her head, "I think I'll be a Ravenclaw. I am very smart."

The blond chuckled, "Then we can be friends."

"I don't think that's very fair. I would hope any friend of mine is kind to everyone. No matter their house or blood status." Hermione spoke with justice in her tone.

Just as Draco was about to answer, a chubby boy peeked his head into their cabin, "Hi, have you all seen a toad?"

Hermione nodded, "I did when I first boarded the train, I'll help you find it." She looked at the boy sitting across from her. "I will be back."

Draco tilted his chin then looked out the window.

As Hermione joined the boy in the aisle, he looked to her nervously, "I am Neville. Thanks for helping me."

"You're welcome. I'm Hermione. I saw your toad up here…" she said as they walked onward to the front.

"So… so are you friends with Draco Malfoy?" Neville asked.

Hermione shook her head, "I wouldn't say we are friends."

"Oh," the boy said quickly.

Hermione stopped and turned to him, "Why?"

Neville raised his hand and itched his right ear. His face was turning red. Hermione could tell he was very nervous. "I… I… just went to primary school with him… and he wasn't very… nice."

Hermione nodded knowingly, "I wouldn't worry about him. Just ignore any insults that come from his way."

Neville sighed, "That is hard to do."

"It is. But I have lived with it my whole life for being different where I come from. You kind of just take people's words and let them go through one ear and out the other. My dad says people that are mean like that have personal things going on… and well, though we aren't the ones to fix it and their problems, we can help just by being kind."

They made it to the front where Hermione had seen the toad and it was no longer there. "Hmm…" she sighed, "we can look together. I'll take the left side cabins and you take the right?"

Neville agreed and the pair made their way down the aisle once more looking for a fat toad. After about ten minutes and no luck, Hermione came upon a cabin with the boy she had seen on the Platform and across from him sat the awfully familiar redhead - who was holding his wand and a rat, "Er, have either of you seen a toad? A boy named Nevillle has lost one."

The two boys shook their heads, "No."

Hermione nodded, "Right… are you doing magic?" She stepped into the cabin and sat down.

"Yeah. My brothers have taught me a spell to turn my rat, Scabbers, yellow," the red head boy answered.

"Let's see then!" Hermione was really very curious. She hadn't been around magic much, so any chance she could be, she took it. And the idea of a yellow rat amused her.

The boy chanted a silly poem and once he was finished sparks flew from the end of his wand and zapped his rat from his lap and onto the floor, where it scurried away beneath the bench.

"Er, are you sure that's a real spell?" Hermione asked, bemused.

The boy shrugged.

Hermione took in a deep breath and threw out her hand, "I'm Hermione Granger, and you are?"

"Ron Weasley," the redhead answered, his mouth now full of treats.

"Pleasure…" Hermione answered, turning her attention to the other boy with black hair and spectacles, "what's your name?"

"Harry… Harry Potter…" he said his last name a little quieter.

Ron nearly spit his food everywhere. Hermione peered at him in mock-disgust.

"You're Harry Potter?!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry nodded, his cheeks turning red. He glanced at Hermione who continued to stare at Ron.

Hermione blinked a few times then brought her attention away from him, "I believe I've read about you… you're the Boy Who Lived, yes?" she asked Harry.

He nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose, "Yes. But I only just found this out myself not too long ago…all of this… "

Hermione's chest became warm, "You mean, you didn't know you were magic?"

Harry shook his head, "No. I know… how does one go for so long not knowing?"

Hermione grinned, "I… didn't know, either. I mean things happened here and there… but I didn't know it was me."

Harry nodded hastily, "Exactly! This one time I removed the glass from a snake tank at the zoo… and I had no clue it was me that did it!" He chuckled, "My cousin fell in… he deserved it."

Hermione giggled, "That's terribly wicked."

Ron scanned the two before him, befuddled. "That is strange that you didn't know. Mum had us doing magic from the time we started walking," he shrugged.

Hermione and Harry shared a smile. Perhaps a friendship could form between them.

"I best be off. I am sure Neville is still searching for his toad. I told him I'd help. I'd change into your robes… I will be as soon as I am done helping him. Good luck and see you at school." She wanted to stay and sit with Harry, but she had told Draco she'd be back and if she were honest with herself, she was a bit bummed about it. Hermione stood, giving both the boys one last smile then left the cabin. As she stepped into the aisle, she heard Ron say, "She's a bit weird, isn't she?"

She didn't wait to hear Harry's response. Things like what Ron said, she was used to… it didn't bother her, per se. But she kind of hoped her indifference would go unnoticed at Hogwarts. She shrugged inwardly. Ron was kind of weird… he and his fake spells. Hermione straightened her posture and held up her chin, "Neville!" she called.

The chubby boy whirled around holding his toad, "Found him!"

Hermione smiled and shook her head.


	11. Chapter 11

The time had come. The steam engine rolled to a complete stop. It was dark and foggy outside those windows. But from a distance, she could see glowing lights from a tall building. Her heart sat in her throat. She was finally here.

"You seem way too excited for school," Draco commented quietly.

Hermione didn't move her attention to his direction, "I am. It's _fascinating… _A school of magic… and we are the lucky ones who have been chosen to attend such a wonderful place."

Draco's face twisted in confusion. He had never heard a witch _or _wizard be so eager for _magic. _A bubbling thought grew into his mind and it wasn't one he particularly liked. He sat forward, "Granger… are you a _mu-"_

Before he could finish his question a tall curly, red-haired boy, yelled out, "_All first years off the train. Don't worry about your luggage! It will be awaiting you in your dorms! All first years!" _

Hermione raised her brows, pursing her lips into a smile, "This is exciting! I do really hope we can be friends, Draco." She reached over and patted his shoulder. She left the cabin and placed herself into the crowded aisle.

The cluster of students moved themselves to the platform where a very tall, grizzly man stood awaiting them. Her head flung back as she gazed up at him. HIs hair was just as wild as her, perhaps a little more curly, but messy all the same. _Wow… _She then heard Harry a couple people down from her say, "_Hi, Hagrid!" _

"_All firs' years o'er here!" _Hagrid called. He held a dim-lighted lantern up, "_Follow_ _me_!"

Hermione pressed her robes down with shaky hands then put them in her pockets. They walked for a good five or so minutes until they reached a body of water. There was an abundance of boats awaiting them.

"_Four to a boat!" _Hagrid said loudly.

Hermione began to make her way to a boat when she saw Harry waving for her to come to his. She hurried over and sat down next to him. Neville and Ron got into the boat as well. The four of them sat quietly, much to Hermione's surprise. She expected Ron to at least be blabbering another silly spell. Then she realized that it was quiet all around her. No one was talking. Everyone sat by themselves, nervousness was evident in each and every face. This made her feel loads better, as she wasn't the only one.

The wild haired girl looked around for paddles. She assumed they'd be starting their venture soon, when suddenly, the boats began moving all by themselves. A few _ohs _and _ahs _were heard around her. She couldn't help but slip out a giggle, "_This is amazing!_"

Harry glanced over at her, "It really is, isn't it?"

She nodded, "When Ms. _er… Professor," _she corrected quickly. The woman had told her once she started Hogwarts it'd be Professor McGonagall, "McGonagall came into my home and told me I was a witch, I was angry. I thought they were trying to send me to a loony bin."

Harry snorted, "I honestly thought the same thing when Hagrid told me… you see my mum and dad died a long time ago… and I grew up with my aunt and uncle who are very much against the thought of anything out of the ordinary."

Hermione shook her head, "That's terrible. I am sorry you had to go through that…."

Harry shrugged nonchalantly, "Sometimes, we are just dealt a bad hand. _Look!" _he pointed to before him. The castle was huge, reflecting a yellow glow from the lights in the dark waters.

"_Wow…" _Ron whispered.

Hermione turned to him and grinned at his drooping jaw.

The boats came to a stop. All of the students were sitting quietly once more, awaiting direction of what to do next. Hagrid removed himself from his boat and stood before everyone, "_Welcome to Hogwarts!_"

The tall door from the entrance of the castle opened slowly and wide. A tall woman stepped out from within the golden hues. She wore a witch hat, her spectacles sat upon the edge of her nose, and the robes she wore were elegant and shimmering.

Hermione instantly knew who it was. It was Professor McGonagall. Hermione leaned over to Harry, "That's Professor McGonagall."

Minerva didn't say anything. She nodded her head at Hagrid, then went back inside the castle, leaving the door open.

"_Everyone form a line! Walk through these doors and wait for yer next move. Good luck to ye all!" _Hagrid said boisterously.

Hermione tried to stay close to Harry but Ron ended up pulling him along toward the front. She dropped her shoulders but squeezed herself between two other students. Everyone began walking up the stairs and into the building. There was a hum amongst them as they all crowded inside a hallway before two more giant doors.

Hermione made her way through the people toward Harry. He greeted her with a grin but he wasn't paying much attention to her, as he was listening to what Ron was saying: "There's not one witch or wizard that hasn't gone bad in Slytherin."

Hermione read about all of the house and though Slytherin wasn't her top choice of houses, she could hardly believe that everyone who resided in that house was evil… "What house do you think you'll be in?" Ron directed his question toward her.

Hermione was slightly taken aback, "Oh, _uhm… _I would think Ravenclaw… I am quite studious. I work hard. I'd like to think I've got a bit of wisdom and wit about me."

Ron shrugged, "I'll probably be in Gryffindor. That is where all of my family was placed. How about you Harry? Where do you think you'll be?"

Harry shook his head, "I have no idea."

"I'll bet you'll be a Gryffindor, too!" Ron said confidently.

"I didn't realize who you were when we met at Madam Malkins."

Hermione knew the voice, but it was an icier tone than he had held on the train. Draco stood before her, Harry, and Ron. Behind him were two other boys who looked just as smug as he did at that moment, "This is Crabbe and Goyle." He pointed over his shoulder. "The famous Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts. You'd be wise to choose your friends carefully here," he said with a sneer.

"Why would anyone want to be friends with a complete arse like you?" Ron started coolheaded.

Hermione was shocked that the boy was able to say something like that so confidently.

"Heh…" Draco chortled, "lets see… red hair and a hand-me-down robe. You _must _be a Weasley."

Ron's face began to redden and appeared to step forward to push Draco, but Harry placed a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

"I think I can figure out who I should want to be friends with, thanks," Harry stated coolly.

"That is the first mistake you've made, Potter." Draco spat. He got quiet when he got patted on his shoulder. He turned around to find Professor McGonagall standing there, peering down at him with dismay.

Hermione bit on her bottom lip. Draco was exactly who he said he was… and that sort of broke her heart. She guessed she hoped that she might've helped him want to be better here… but like her mother had always said: _you can't save everyone. _

Draco and she shared a quick glance between each other. She could tell he was upset, but there was nothing she could do or say to make things better. Draco clearly made his choice on who and what he will be. There wasn't a speck of guilt in his eyes.

"_Welcome to Hogwarts!" _Professor McGonagall began, clapping her hands together. "Now in a few moments you will be passing through these doors to join your classmates! But before all of you take your seats you must be sorted into your houses." She skimmed over the crowd of hesitant faces.

"The houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Now while you're here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you house points and any rule breaking, you will lose points." She cleared her throat, "Mister Longbottom, it appears you have lost your toad _again…,_" as she pointed next to her feet.

Hermione furrowed her brows. How had the witch known that Neville had lost it in the first place? Neville trudged up embarrassed and took hold of his familiar.

The older witch resumed speaking to everyone, "At the end of the year the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup!" She turned and opened the double doors, "Follow me!"

The first years scurried behind the woman and into the Great Hall. Hermione noticed Harry staring up at the ceiling in awe, "It's bewitched to look like the night sky! I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History." _

He nodded in appreciation. He, too, had the book, but only skimmed it. He wasn't allowed much time to read at the Dursley's. By the time nightfall had come he'd be too tired from school and all the housework they put upon him.

The children walked between four long tables, which were already filled with other students of different ages. There were a lot of friendly faces sitting amongst the first three tables. The last table against the windows of the other side of the room sat with cold arrogance.

Hermione inwardly agreed with herself, _that must be Slytherin. _The parade of students stopped in their tracks once they met a long row of tables. This was where the professors sat. Hermione recognized a few of them from _Hogwarts, A History_.

The man sitting in the middle in the big oak chair had to have been none other than Professor Dumbledore. He was exactly as her mother described. The girl could not wait to have a proper meeting with him. __

"Now, when I call your name, you will come up and have a seat. I will place the Sorting Hat upon your head…" Professor McGonagall opened the scroll she held within her hands, revealing many names listed.

Hermione tensed up. Her heart raced and her palms sweaty. She blew out her cheeks. _How bad could this be?  
_  
"_Abbott, Hannah," _the tall witch called out.

A short blonde girl, who also appeared tense, began walking toward the front of the room. She made her way to the stool and sat down. She was visibly shaking. No one heard anything, but all could see that Hannah was nodding, then smiled. Loudly, the hat shouted: _HUFFLEPUFF!_

A table full of students wearing yellow and black ties, jumped up and cheered, welcoming the young newcomer into their house.

Hermione smiled. What a welcome that was! She only hoped the other three houses were just the same.

Another student was called, placed in Ravenclaw, and was just as welcoming as Hufflepuff…

A Slytherin was called and surprisingly enough, that table was the loudest of them all. Hermione jumped at the sudden celebration for a new member being placed amongst them. _Hmm… _she thought. _Maybe they aren't as bad as the whispers_.

"_Granger, Hermione!" _

_Oh. _Hermione went stiff. She hadn't realized they had hit the letter of her surname. She took a deep breath, and placed one foot in front of the other. The girl didn't make eye contact with anyone. She couldn't even find the nerve to look up at Professor McGonagall to say hello.

"_Hello, young… Morganna", _the hat spoke into her head. Hermione jumped. She wasn't ready for that.

Hermione closed her eyes, she knew she needed to speak back to the hat, but not out loud for everyone to hear, "_Err, hello. My name isn't Morganna. It's Hermione. Morganna is my second name and my birth mother's name."_

"_Ah, yes. I see. I see, but much more than you know to be," _the hat said, not quite making sense. "_You are wise beyond your years. You have a large heart. You are ambitious, like your father… Alaric."_

Hermione gulped, "_And what house was he?"_

"_Slytherin."_

The young witch let out a shaky sigh. She guessed she was expecting that response.

"_You are the epitome of every house, girl. Yet, you may only join one. You will do well in any of the houses. Where do you wish to go?"_

Hermione opened her eyes to find the eyes of the crowd staring back at her. She had been sitting up there much longer than any of the other students had thus far. She glanced at Gryffindor, their faces seemed kind and welcoming. Moving her gaze to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, she didn't find comfort in any of their smiles; though they were friendly, she knew she didn't belong. Finally upon Slytherin, she found her body going cold. "_Gry-gryffindor, please."_

"_GRYFFINDOR!" _The hat yelled out, causing commotion across the room. The students accented with maroon and gold stood up, clapping, cheering, and welcoming her to their table. She knew she'd made the right decision. Finally taking a moment, she peeked up to Professor McGonagall who nodded her head in acceptance and pride.

"Welcome to Gryffindor," a tall redhead leaned over, holding out a hand, "my name is George Weasley and this is my brother, Fred."

Hermione took the redhead's hand into her own and smiled at the two identical boys, "Thank you."

The ceremony lasted about an hour more, then food magically appeared onto the tables. Hermione hadn't realized how hungry she was until just then. All the ruckus of the day must've distracted her from noticing. She hadn't paid much attention to anyone else being called up and placed; she was too much in a daze. Her nerves were still shaking within her.

"This is wicked," Harry said to her, a huge grin split his face.

"It is. I am glad you're in this house too, Harry," Hermione said to him suddenly. "Maybe it'll make things easier for us… living in the _Muggle _world and all."

Harry nodded as he placed a bite of chicken into his mouth. He made a curious look toward himself, as if he were holding a conversation in his mind. He then turned to the long table of Professors and cringed in what seemed to be pain.

Hermione almost asked what was wrong until that was interrupted by, "I knew I'd be in Gryffindor!" Ron smiled, his mouth full, and both hands holding eating utensils filled with more food.

Harry seemed to have been brought out of his trance of discomfort by Ron's loud mouth.

The girl tried to ignore his ignorance and held up a glass of juice, "Congratulations to us then!"

The boys clinked their glasses against hers in cheers. Hermione still looked on at Harry, his eyes weren't smiling like they had been before. She made a mental note that she'd try to talk to him later.

After dinner, everyone got into four separate lines and followed what were called, Prefects. They were a sort of disciplinary student security of the school. Each house had their own. Hermione was surprised to find that it was actually another one of Ron's brothers there at the school. He apparently had two more brothers and a sister to go along with the twins she'd met at the feast and the one before her now. She couldn't imagine having that many siblings! Baby Alfie was already a handful.

The body of students approached a large portrait on the wall on the seventh floor. It was of a large woman, who sat upon stone stairs, dressed in venitian type clothing, and a goblet in her hands. Hermione had read about each other's houses having their own means of entering, but it didn't quite reveal exactly what had to be done in order to enter. This was interesting to say the least….

"_Good eve," _The portrait greeted the students. The portrait's tongue held an odd accent, not one that could be identified. It almost seemed… made up.

Hermione and Harry beamed at one another.

"Hello, we would like to enter! Have to get these first years inside and ready for their first day of school tomorrow," Percy said, bored.

"_Well, welcome first years! I, too, have rules! Don't wake me from my sleep. If you do, it'd best be an emergency." _She grimaced, "_Password?"_

"_Caput Draconis…" _Percy answered stiffly.

The portrait opened wide, revealing an opening to the other side.

Hermione didn't feel very good about Percy… Perhaps it was because of his title, but he seemed very posh. And from who she had met from the Weasley family, he had no business acting in such a way.

Professor McGonagall met the first years in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was large. There were a couple maroon sofas (which were already spoken for). Tables flanked each of the three windows that peered over Hogwarts grounds. A large lion-faced rug decorated the floor. There were a few pillows and cushions here and there. A fire crackled behind them. Empty portraits on the walls were filling with people, as if they were there to listen to the rules as well.

Hermione stayed close to Harry and Ron. McGonagall went over the rules of Gryffindor House. Many students were full of questions. Normally, Hermione being one of those, found herself instead, very exhausted. She was swaying on her feet and wished very much to be dismissed so she could have a lie down. She paid most attention once they were told where their dormitories were.

"I do not care the time you wake as long as you are in class by nine o' clock. Otherwise you will be deemed late and could potentially lose points for your house." Professor McGonagall looked around at each student. "Breakfast starts in the Great Hall at seven-thirty. There will be a plate of muffins and juice to go each morning here in the common room, but as always, it's best to grab a good first meal of the day."

"Students have a curfew of ten o'clock. So up in your dormitories by then." The woman glanced at the large grandfather clock in the corner of the room. "You've enough time to shower and ready yourselves for bed. See you all tomorrow," she tilted her chin, "and best of luck!"

Hermione yawned. "I think I am off to bed. See you tomorrow," she said to Harry.

He nodded with a grin, "Yeah, see you."

The girl climbed the stairs to the dormitory. Opening the door, she was met with four poster beds, with maroon curtains hanging down and around the bed itself. There was a fluffy comforter on each of them and a pillow as well. Her trunk was already sitting before the bed next to a window - which she was grateful for. She always enjoyed the view. A dresser stood next to her bed, along with a lamp dimly lit on top of it.

It was a cozy room. She reached her trunk, not worrying too much to shower just now and pulled out a pair of pyjamas. Getting onto her bed, she closed the curtains and quickly changed out of her robes and into the comfortable duds. She crawled to the end of her mattress and swiftly threw her robes on top of her trunk and closed the curtains back. "_Mmm…" _she wiggled herself beneath her blankets. Goodness, she was tired. She rolled to her side and fell asleep; never hearing any of the other girls.


End file.
